Neurocracy
by Frantic Author
Summary: In some worlds, Taylor is a hero. In others, a villain. And sometimes, however rarely, she walks the lines betwixt and between.
1. Extraction

**Who likes Worm? I like Worm. Special thanks to SB and Roarian for general betaing.**

* * *

**Extraction 1.1**

I woke up, and everything hurt.

My body was on fire and freezing and _electrified_, hairs on end and everything I knew was pain, words struggling to erupt from my throat, but they couldn't.

"Hey hey heyyyyyyyy! You can't move around yet, I'm not _done! _Ugh, I hate hate _haaaaate _when they wake up earlier! They always give up waaaaaay too soon!"

My eyes moved, and skin that was no longer there paled. A small girl with a wide grin looked at me curiously, holding a saw in her hand, a too large white lab coat covered in blood over her body. My blood, if there was any left inside of me, went cold. I'd heard stories of villains like this, people so wrapped in their own madness that they do terrible, horrible things. The sort of people my mom would use when I was little to get me to go to bed.

"Be good and go to sleep, or the villains will take you away!"

"Woweee you've got some pain tolerance, huh? Most people black out or die already!"

I tried to speak again, the words bubbling past my lips with blood, rushing down my teeth and face as I spoke. "Can't... feel much of anything. Hurts. _Everywhere._"

She nodded, and it looked almost sympathetic on her small face and frame, and I had to remind myself that this was a _villain_, and she was causing me pain, and she had probably caused_others _pain, and oh _god _it hurt so much.

"Trying to artificially induce Trigger events _hurts, _I know! But then I think of all the _knowledge _possible, all the _power _that it could give... and I just do it, you know? It's not your fault that you were on vacation and ran into me, its just the luck of the draw! And boy did I luck out! Your family's out, you were asleep, had no problems not one until right now, and you can even_talk! _You're the best subject I've had to date, haha!"

It was a cute laugh, and it echoed of better times. It reminded me of Emma. It reminded me that I would never see my best friend ever again, and she would learn that I had died at this insane villain's hands. She would cry and imagine how painful it was, and it hurt me just to think about it. It was a harrowing flash through my eyes as I thought about that, and the girl smiled gently at me, rubbing her hand over the muscle where my flesh used to be on my cheek.

"There there, I know, _belieeeeeve meeeee_ I know! It hurts, but it'll be over soon! You just have to do one thing for me..."

"What?" I rasped, and it _hurt_, hurt more then anything I'd ever felt in my _life_, watching this small girl in the oversized coat work, stitching _things _into my arms, I could feel something forcibly bonding with my body, hurting me, and my eyes flashed red, and I couldn't see anything, just red that goes on forever for a moment.

"_Trigger. _I need need neeeeeed to see a Trigger event! _I need it in my soul._ If you Trigger, I'll put you back together, fix you up, and you can just walk right on out!"

She's lying. I knew she was lying. Villains always lie, from what I learned, from the rumors I'd heard. They'd promise something simple, but it's _never _simple, and it always, always hurts.

"Can't..." I said in response, the words bubbling past my throat, and I see red spurt out past my neck, splattering across the small girl's face and her wide, wide smile, filled with madness and terrible things that I didn't want to see. "You can't force a Trigger event... Even I know that."

I wanted to Trigger. I wanted it to stop hurting. Agony slammed into my body and I held back a cry, because the only reason the pain had _stopped _was because she was talking, and if I couldn't talk anymore, then she had no reason to hold back.

"I knoooow thaaaat! Jeez, you must think I'm an _idiot!_ Sorry Taylor, but I'm smart, super duper smart! I figure that I do a little bit of _this _and _that, _I can force an event! And when I saw you Taylor, I just _knew_. You had the _drive_, you had the _need_, and you had the _will. _And that's what I really need Taylor. I need you to Trigger for _me_, okay? Just a little bit! It's alright!"

I looked at her, this tiny girl in a oversized bloody lab coat, and the words slipped through my lips, blood covering my teeth and my body again. "How... how do you even know who I am?"

"Oh, you don't remember? Well, I'm glad my memory wiping gas works at least. So difficult to get that working right. So- many... failures. You told me Taylor! You told me when I promised that little old Bonesaw would make the pain go away, you told me _so many things~"_

There was nobody around, not for miles. I knew that. But I wanted help. Please god, _please_, I'll do anything, anything in the world, if you just make her stop. Just let me _live_. Please, I swear, just let someone HELP ME. I need someone, oh god, _Scion_, _anyone _please, just **hear me!**

My mind exploded outwards, and I _felt the world. _six point three _billion _things to feel on the planet, all doing what they did, and I could _feel _their minds, _hear _them, in my head.

Words rolled past me faster then cars on a highway.

_Protectorate. Wards. The Guild._ I recognized those words - heroes.

They would help me, they _had to _help me, they _needed _to help me. Please. They were heroes, so I called to them, my mind _reaching _through miles and miles to ask them, beg them, _plead_with them to help me, words echoing forward from my mind that were barely recognizable, the only phrase that seemed even _remotely _human was one - _HELP ME._

_Birdcage. Villains. Parahumans. _I knew those too, and even if they weren't heroes, they could help me, because nobody, nobody ever would want to experience this. I wouldn't wish this on the worst criminals, the most dangerous villains, not even the _Endbringers_.

This pain, this agony, this endless fire that burned through me, it hurt, _it hurt so much please god help me help me help me_

A laugh roared through the pain, a high pitched, mad cackle, that rose into my ears, and it _screamed _through my mind, suddenly shooting back into my body, and I twitched, eyes rolling forward in my head to look at her once more, her small body shaking with laughter, tears rolling down her face.

"Amazing! Fantastic! Oh man oh _man_, boy am I glad I picked you! I could almost _kiss _you!"

Blood poured down my body from everywhere, and I stared at her through a veil of red, barely able to see her through the crimson covering my eyes.

"Wh... what? What is it?"

She grinned, jumping towards me and wrapping her arms around me, and agony _**flew **_through my body, slamming into every corner of my being, and I cried out loud, a visceral raw_scream_, before Bonesaw stepped back, covered in _my _blood, in _my _muscles, in _my _guts.

_Don't you know Taylor? congratulations!_

"What... what the _hell _are you saying?"

She frowned at me, shaking her finger. "Language!" '_Only telepath in the world thanks to me!'_

"I... I..."

_'Don't understand? Yes of course not, but don't worry its okay!'_

The words flowed to my head, my mind processing them in an instant, the words dancing around my own thoughts, thoughts of agony and fire and pain, and _comprehending _them, shaping them into forms I could understand, and it terrified me.

I had Triggered. It was obvious now - what I had seen, looking at the world, those were other people's minds, and I was looking into them, taking their thoughts and _understanding _them.

"You totally get it now! Oh an oh man I'm _sooooooo happpyyyy~ _I made the only telepath in existence!_Ever!_ Jeez, that's wonderful!"

_'great she's mine all mine never going to let her go she's __mine mine mine'_

I felt myself fading away from reality, blood pouring down every part of my body as my eyelids started to slide close.

_'Oh no no no you aren't going to die! You're __mine_ _you're Bonesaw's and you're going to be the greatest thing I've ever made!'_

_..._

When I woke up, I was in the middle of a cabin and nobody was around for at least two blocks. There was blood covering every inch of the cabin, coating it in layer after layer of sticky redness, and I staggered to my feet, slowly moving forward.

I still hurt. Everywhere. It was a dull throbbing instead of the searing agony of earlier, that pain was so far off it felt almost dreamlike, but it was _there_. I walked forward, and my eyes suddenly sharpened, and I stopped moving.

In front of the door, was a piece of clear glass in a frame. And an unfamiliar figure stood in it, and I shook in fear - had Bonesaw come back? She had promised to put me back together if I'd Triggered, but if she came back... she would _kill _me.

The figure was wearing a rag of a dress that used to be white, but was coated in so much blood that it had been stained a deep, dark red. Stitches covered her body, crossing over her face and along her cheeks, her neck and arms and legs, all of them were covered in stitches. Piercing, bright brown eyes stared into the mirror, and brown hair was raggedly cut at the neck, falling about the figure's face. She was pale, far paler then me, I'd been on vacation after all, I was _tanned_, and she looked haunted, like a fear of something would never leave her.

I took a shaky step closer, and froze. The figure stepped forward. I fell to my knees, and so did it. There was nobody for two blocks, my mind reminded me.

Because I was the figure in the mirror.

* * *

**Extraction 1.2**

I walked through the woods, my mind searching for any sign of life, anyone nearby who could possibly have heard my cry. The green and brown mottled area was silent, apart from the quiet chirping of birds and the undercurrent of noise that always exists in nature, tendrils of greenery brushing across my hands and face as I moved, causing me to shiver in fear, looking for the source of the touch, only to realize that it was the trees.

My mind roamed the woods alone, leaving my body far behind, until it reached the limit of my power, snapping back to me with a jarring halt, and I staggered momentarily, feeling the cold grass and mud slip beneath my toes as I moved. Stray strands of green stuck beneath my toes and it felt cool against them, distracting me from the white hot memories that flowed through my mind, memories of skin being _ripped_and scattered and _laughing_, always laughing, Bonesaw's girlish laugh echoing through my head, and I flinched, my mind reaching out to get away from the memories of the cabin.

The forest was blissfully silent to my searching mind, brushing past insects and animals with ease, feeling their thoughts for a moment before moving on.

_Food_. _Shelter. Sleep. _So strangely simple, compared to the myriad of emotions I had felt in the cabin, when my mind had grabbed the world. Then I had felt fear, anger, frustration, helplessness, all encompassing in a single shout, and the response had been less then I'd hope.

There wasn't really a response. I'd felt confusion and curiosity as an answer to my plea, and the hopelessness I'd felt was only doubled by the frustration of some of those I'd reached – of their own helplessness, their own inability to help me. It made me feel smaller then ever before, knowing that even in my darkest hour, nobody would have come to help me.

Because they couldn't. Because it was too hard, I was too far, and it was terrifying for them in a way that I would never understand. I could only understand that they had no ability to prevent my pain, to remove me from the agony I felt, and it was hard to accept.

The forest's silence was _serenity _compared to those feelings. A lack of thought, a lack of need. Just silence. I tried to smile, but the flash of pain that roared into my face as I did so wiped my features clean. I never wanted to think about Bonesaw again.

The pain that still wouldn't leave me, that sat there in the back of my head, poking and prodding and reminding me of the cabin. I wanted to forget it all, just so I could be _Taylor _again. An ordinary girl on vacation with her parents, asking when they would go back, because she wanted to see her best friend again.

Was I ever really that girl? She seemed so far off now, like a distant memory, or a half-remembered dream. I couldn't have been whining about vacation, that had to be a trick. Maybe I_hadn't _left the cabin, maybe Bonesaw was tricking me again, making me think I had escaped just so she could catch me, drag me back to her tools and wires and the blood. Escaping from that small girl with the smile and the bloody coat wasn't possible.

It was just a fact. Alexandria, Eidolon, and Legend are the Triumvirate. Emma is my best friend. I would never escape Bonesaw. Was she binding her time, letting me have a taste of freedom so she could drag me back into her lair? Or was she _letting _me leave, like in those fantasy stories Emma loved. The villain_allows _the hero to leave, because he isn't strong enough yet. Would Bonesaw do that?

I shook my head quickly, wanting to free myself from the morbid track my thoughts were taking me down. I had to find a way out of this forest. I had to find a way to get back to the hotel, back to my family.

My power surged forward again, and this time, I _looked_. The minds of animals were simple, easy to understand. I needed something _complex, _something that could think and understand. Animals were like an assault rifle to a Tinker's pistol, easily understandable to those who could, but vastly and incredibly inferior compared to the latter.

At the very edge of my power, I felt it. A hint of humanity, and I let out a cry of joy; soon I could go home, soon I could _break down _and let myself go, stop caring and thinking and just let it out because it hurt so_much_, and I just wanted the nightmare to end, to pretend that I was _Taylor _again, not Bonesaw's puppet, just Taylor.

The hint vanished as quickly as it came, and I nearly fell in dismay, barely standing as my shoulders slumped, my feet slowly moving forward. I would be trapped here forever, wouldn't I? Trapped in this place with dark murky colors, with cool grass brushing across my feet, irritating the cuts and scratches that covered them, the rags I was wearing as clothes whipping in the wind, as lights rushed by me.

My eyes darted forward, as minds rushed past me, going back and forth across the mottled gray with a striking yellow line, and my lips parted into a grin, despite the pain of the movement. I had found a highway, I could go_home._

I held out a shaking, pale hand, covered in marks and scars, my thumb shivering in the cool air as it pointed upwards. I'd always been told never to hitchhike, but there was no other option in this instance – I just wanted to get back to the hotel, go to sleep, and pretend that I had never left my bed.

Even if the stitches told a different story.

Even if my _skin _said it was a lie.

I must have looked terrible, a girl covered in stitches, wearing rags, holding out her hand as car after car flew by. I caught words with my power as they zoomed past, becoming lights in the distance; pieces and phrases that hurt.

_'Weird odd girl go faster killer.'_

I could have cried. Of course they would think that, I didn't look like _me_, I was Bonesaw's creation, even if I didn't want to be. My power bloomed with me, my mind _reaching _out, looking through all these minds, all these insults, and tears fell from my eyes. I supposed I _did _look a bit off, but still, why would nobody stop? Why did nobody care? Was I that much of a monster?

Screeching tires hit me like a freight train, and watery eyes met a watery face, barely visible through the film of wetness in my eyes. Rubbing them, my eyes saw a concerned woman, holding up a newspaper.

"Hey, are you alright? Sorry, its just that you're about the same age as this girl, so I was wondering if..."

Her voice faded into the background while I stared almost hungrily at the picture on the front page, at who I once was and who I oh-so-desperately wanted to be. Taylor Hebert, sitting in the photograph, smiling and wearing too big glasses, her head tilted to the side.

There was a reward for any information, and I wanted to cry again. They had been searching for me. They hadn't left me behind.

"C-can... Can you take me to where they are? Please?" My voice was shaky and dry from lack of use, newly stitched vocal cords still hoarse from screaming.

The woman nodded, and I sank into the backseat of her car in relief, watching the lights go by, listening to the voices of cars we passed.

'_Hope Jessie leaves me alone.'_

_'I wonder if Rogers will be done with his fucking work, god __**dammit**__!'_

_'Poor girl, I wonder if she found her family.'_

My eyes began to drift close, the lull of the highway noise and normalcy grasping me firmly, my eyes slowly closing as I fell asleep.

* * *

**Extraction 1.3**

I awoke with a jolt, the calming hum of the car engine halting. Shaking myself free from sleep, I looked up, my eyes looking around the vehicle, seeing the woman who had taken me in her car looking back with a warm smile. For the first time, I actually _looked _at her. She had long blonde hair, tied back into a ponytail, and skin about the same shade as mine used to be, maybe a bit darker. With twinkling blue eyes and a set of white teeth, she looked almost picturesque, less of a woman I'd meet on the roadside and more of a _movie star. _I blushed, keenly aware how visible it would be on my now pale cheeks, and looked at her shyly.

"Hey, why are you looking so down?" She said, tousling my hair, ratty and damp from the lack of washing I'd been unable to do in captivity, and I felt self conscious, my clothes suddenly seeming even less then they were before, and I looked away nervously. "We're here."

I looked up, and almost sank into the leather of her car in relief. Before me stood the hotel that my family was staying at. A tall building towered over the car, and a thousand glittering lights shown down on me. I could hear the murmur of noise that was always present in cities, the sound of cars moving and people talking as they walked down the streets. My power felt lucid, and more under my control then it had in the forest. There weren't any voices whispering into my mind involuntarily, telling me secrets that I didn't want to hear.

"Oh," I said, my voice barely a whisper, looking down at my feet, covered in grass and mud. I had probably ruined her car with how dirty I was, and my mom had always told me how difficult it was to get bloodstains out of clothing. How difficult would it be to get blood and dirt out of her car? "Thanks for the ride."

I moved to get out of the car, but she grabbed my shoulder, and I flinched. Slowly, I turned back to her, and she shook her head, her eyes flickering with amusement. "Come on, did you think I was going to let you go alone? I'll take you in."

Relief washed over me. She wasn't keeping me back, she was helping me move forward. I tried to smile at her, but as pain flashed through my face, it looked more like a grimace. She laughed.

"I know it must seem weird to go meet your parents with some strange woman, but just humor me, okay? I don't want you to get lost on the way."

She got out of the car first, the door closing with the sound of metal on metal, and I was momentarily confused by what she had said. How could I get lost on the way? I could see the double doors from here, the man at the door wearing his suit with a sort of detached pride, his sharp face nodding cordially to people as they entered.

Her hand knocked on the door, a light, dainty sound that made me wish I could knock like that. My hands were always heavy on doors, and it was always less of a knock and more of a crash when I came around to Emma's house. She liked it, apparently, said it let her know exactly who arrived when I knocked.

I opened the door slowly, stepping out with care as my feet brushed the hot concrete, grabbing the outstretched hand the woman offered.

"Th...thank you," I whispered to her, and she smiled one of those adult smiles, the one that says "I have a secret", or "I know something that you don't", and I held back a scowl as we walked towards the hotel, instead distracting myself with my power.

The doorman was thinking of a girl he knew when he was younger, wondering if he should give her a call, ask her over for some coffee. Even while his lips said hello to the next person entering the hotel, he was toying with the idea of seeing how she was doing once he got off work, go over and maybe meet up with her for the first time in years. I didn't find his thoughts very interesting, so I moved on, my power looking around for someone who looked like they might have a _story _to tell.

A woman with a scowl on her face and a cigarette in her mouth was thinking of her kids. Her twins were both in college; one studying math and the other studying history, and she was proud of them, more proud then she could have dreamed. They were well on their way to being their own people, but they still called her. Every Sunday, 5 PM sharp. She was so happy she could almost cry.

It made me think, as my feet stopped moving with the blonde woman next to me, waiting for the light to change. Why did people hide their thoughts behind their face? If someone was happy, why couldn't they _look _happy? If someone was sad, why couldn't they _look _sad?

I looked closely at the woman next to me, and she looked back, briefly halting a hurried conversation with the doorman, who was looking at me with something akin to frustration as I had looked through his mind, smiling down at me with bright white teeth and eyes that sparkled with her smile. I blushed and looked away. I wasn't as pretty as her, and I never could be. I was small, covered in stitches, and looked like a monster. Bonesaw had ruined me, even as a voice whispered that she'd _created _me, made me _better. _Were those my thoughts, or were they Bonesaw's? But as the light turned green, and my feet moved in unison with the woman's, I paled.

What would my _family _think? I looked nothing like myself. I looked more like _Bonesaw _then anyone else; pale skin, stitches, and rags. If I had a lab coat I could have passed for her older sister.

An unwilling laugh bubbled to my lips. Bonesaw? Family? The thought was unthinkable – she was insane, driven to madness by something that I couldn't understand. Maybe if I had more control over my power, I would be able to understand Bonesaw. But I didn't want to understand her.

If I understood her, then I could empathize with her. I could forgive her. And I _never _wanted to forgive Bonesaw, never wanted to think about her, or villains, or _capes _ever again.

The inside of the hotel was much like I remembered it. Warm lights and soothing music hummed throughout the lobby, and I let the sound of trumpet wash over my body, feeling lighter as the music played. I looked up at the woman next to me, and we both shared a secret grin, even if it hurt to smile. I was going home, and that made me feel lighter than air. Murmurs echoed through my mind, ones that I tried to ignore, just like the looks and glances I had been receiving, but still struggled to the forefront.

_'Is it Halloween already?'_

_'Didn't know kids these days were so into costuming.'_

_'Filthy disgusting trash, bismirching the house of my fathers...'_

The blonde freed me from the thoughts, as her voice broke through my reverie. "Hey, do you remember your room number? It doesn't say where your family's staying in the article," she said, her pretty face marred by a frown as she looked at the newspaper, the front page advertising a picture of me, with the headline folded down. "Annoying, isn't it?"

"I _guess _so," I responded quietly, my throat stinging in protest, "But maybe they were getting a lot of false calls, and just didn't want to deal with that anymore."

She laughed quietly, flicking a stray strand of straw yellow hair out of her eyes, giving me a pretty smile. "Wow. You really do think about everything, don't you?"

I frowned at her, a crease forming in my forehead, feeling the scratching, itchy feeling of stitches on stitches. "I don't think about everything. I just like to know things."

She ruffled my hair again, and I felt more self conscious then ever before.

"We were staying in 1331, if that's any help, um..." I bit my lip, the slight sting preferable to the constant, dull throb I normally felt.

She grinned, holding a finger up to her lips as if it was a secret. "Sam. Don't tell anyone, alright? I'm _incognito _right now. On temporary leave from work, they'd be _furious _if I told them I was helping a cute girl out."

I wasn't blushing. That was not happening, because I was too busy trying to glare at a woman twice my height, who laughed uproariously at my expression as she almost _bounced _off the elevator button, her back flying off it as quickly as it had hit it.

"That expression you're making right now? _Adorable._"

My ineffectual glare apparently did nothing to her – to Sam, as she flounced into the elevator, dragging me along, and the sound of a scratchy saxophone played over the speakers, and she grinned at me, offering me a hand. I looked at her like she was crazy, shaking my head furiously.

"S-sorry, I'm not a very good dancer."

She laughed boisterously, doing an elegant twirl, impossibly tight and concise in the elevator, her foot flicking out and tapping the thirteenth floor with little trouble as I watched, my eyes widening.

"It's not about _dancing_! It's about _freedom_, just doing what you like!"

What I'd like to do is curl up into a ball and cry. What I'd like to do is forget about Bonesaw and powers and capes forever. But I couldn't do that – my power wouldn't let me do that, even as it brushed up against Sam's mind, and her emotions washed over me.

Honesty. Happiness. Freedom. Sam didn't have a dishonest bone in her body, she was so wild and _gleeful_, her mind so blissful to sink into that a small giggle burst from my lips. She caught it with quick ears, and quicker hands grabbed mine as she _spun_, and I shouted with glee as the small elevator seemed to grow, the glass and dark red paneling turning into blurs of swirling color as we danced. Red mingled with clearness, and all I saw was a blur and blonde hair as we spun, her face glowing as she shouted with glee.

The ding of the elevator didn't stop her, she continued to spin, going faster and faster, and I found myself _floating_, the ground falling away beneath my feet, Sam's loud and boisterous laugh washing over me. I felt myself fall away, my power activating again and feeling the thrill of _existence _beneath my feet, the thrum of whispers and the pounding of heartbeats hitting me like an earthquake, and when it vanished, I felt lost.

Sam had stopped spinning, panting and grinning wildly. "That was fun, wasn't it?"

I nodded hesitantly. "I-I guess. It felt... it felt nice."

Sam smiled that wild and mad smile, one that said she could not, would not bend and ruffled my hair for the third time, and for the third time, I flushed at the contact, again being made keenly aware of how ratty I looked. Turning away quickly, I stepped lightly out of the elevator, feeling flustered and sweaty as I moved, the bloody rags sticking sharply onto my body. The hallway seemed longer then I remembered, the lights burning brighter then I thought they had, and the colors on the carpet more fascinating than they had any right to be.

It felt like my feet were dragging so slowly as Sam walked with me to 1331, and every step I took, the door loomed closer and closer, until I stood in front of it hesitating with my hand at the door.

"Aren't you going to knock?"

"J-j-just give me a minute."

Still, I hesitated. My family... what if they didn't want me anymore? I was hideous, a monster where there was once a girl. Would my family still care about me? Would anyone still care about me?

...What if _Emma _stopped caring?

My hand shook in front of the door, betraying me as it accidentally hit the door, the tap as loud as the pulse in my throat. As the door opened slowly, and a scrawny, tall man in a wrinkled shirt and dress pants stood before me, rubbing sleep from his eyes as he put his glasses on his eyes.

"Taylor?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper, and I gave him a small smile through blurred, teary eyes.

"Hi dad."

He grabbed me immediately, drawing me deep into his arms as I cried, tears running down my face, cutting through and around the stitches on it with ease, and I held him close, letting everything go as I let loose all of the emotions I'd been holding back in his arms – all the helplessness, hopelessness, and frustration pouring out of my body in waves as my dad held me.

"Taylor..." He said, his voice taut and quiet. "I was so worried about you. _So_, so worried."

"I'm sorry dad, I-I-I... I-I..." I choked, unable to continue talking. Memories crashed through gates I'd locked after waking up, memories of pain and suffering, everything _Bonesaw _had said to me, it came back up, and I couldn't breath, couldn't speak, couldn't _think_. My power activated like it was instinctive, whispers of voices entering my head, from my dad, from Sam, and from behind the door.

The door opened slowly, and my throat constricted as tears poured down, the woman who walked through it giving me a wide smile.

"Hey honey, are you feeling alright?"

I had to speak. I had to get these last words out before I collapsed, if nothing else.

"Hi mom."

I fell to the ground and blackness enveloped my vision.

* * *

**Extraction 1.4**

I wasn't sure if my eyes were open or closed. A murky darkness veiled my vision, and as I reached out with my power, voices washed over me, at least ten or fifteen, and what they whispered into my mind was fairly worrying.

_''Not sure if those stitches are removable, they're made of'_

_'Skin like iron, two hearts... what's with all the extra'_

_'Need Panacea. Can't figure out her biology with all the'_

I drowned out the voices with my own mind, slowly crushing them with my power, making them smaller, quieter, to allow myself some peace of mind, literally. My eyes slowly opened, and I saw a group of faceless people surrounding me, the bright whiteness causing me to squint, and I moved an arm to cover my eyes.

Well, I attempted to move my arm.

It wouldn't. I tried again, throwing more and more power behind my movement, and for a split second, I felt something straining, pulling back my arm.

And then my arm _ripped _free, and with bleary eyes I looked around at the faceless men, who had backed away from me in worry.

"Where am I?" I asked, and I blinked in surprise. My throat hadn't protested my speaking, and the words had flowed rather naturally, like water out of a faucet instead of through a cracked glass. The pain I'd felt was like a faint throbbing in the back of my head, a half remembered dream instead of an present agony, and I sagged with relief that it was gone.

One of the faceless men removed his mask, and suddenly features sharply snapped into focus. Brown, closely cropped hair and blue eyes stared back at me with concern, and he began to speak words that I didn't care to listen to. Instead, my power surged forward, entering his mind with ease. I drifted past stray thoughts, looking for something concrete, something that would _tell _me where I was. I delved deeper and further in, going farther and farther into the stray corners of his mind, looking past memories of children and flashes of school, until I saw it.

There it was, drifting next to a thought of flesh on flesh that I pointedly avoided looking at; I wasn't that curious about him, and I saw where I was.

The hospital. I watched myself being carried inside with detached apathy, satisfied by this discovery, and prepared to leave.

Blinking several times, I stared at my surroundings again, and they were much clearer.

Not faceless men, but doctors. I'd gotten treatment for some of the more blatant injuries on my body, and my arms were freed of stitches, only pale skin with paler scars remaining. I traced one of them, a swirl wrapping around the top of my hand to the bottom of my wrist, and it still felt tender and fragile, like glass instead of skin.

I had been laying down on a surgery table it seemed, but very little had actually been accomplished. But the pain was gone. The pain that had roared through my body now was merely a hum in the back of mind, no longer so centered, no longer at the forefront.

"Miss Hebert, you're awake. Good." One of the men said, sighing with relief. "We weren't sure if you would wake up again, and you were a bit hard to operate on in the first place!" He laughed, a small chuckle, as he removed his mask, rubbing the stubble on his face with a frown.

I blinked at him. Twice, because I was confused. He seemed surprisingly... normal, considering how I looked.

Actually, a lot of people had acted fairly normal. I had been covered in stitches and blood, but _nobody had ever brought it up. _Why?

I couldn't understand it. I didn't want to understand why Sam had never mentioned the blood on my clothes, and I would forget about the people who never mentioned that I was a barefoot girl in rags with stitches all over.

It was unimportant. Just like the stitches that had never been there. Just like the pain that wasn't in the back of my mind.

"Can... Can I see my parents?" I asked, looking at the man closely, and I noticed with eyes enhanced by _something_, that he flinched away. Apparently I was a bit scary.

Good. If I was scary, I wouldn't need to be a cape. I could just be _Taylor _for a little while longer, I could pretend that I was alone because I wanted to be. That was nice.

"Yes, of course. Come here," he grabbed my hand, and helped me off the table. I walked out of the room, and voices from it pulled themselves into my head.

_'Like it was nothing, right? Painkillers didn't work.'_

_'Crazy. Wish I was a Tinker.'_

_'What is she?'_

It didn't matter. I wanted to see my parents, and the whiteness of the hospital felt like it was reflecting on my skin, making me more noticeable, making everyone look at me, look at the girl with more scars then anyone else.

I hated it. I hated this body Bonesaw had 'gifted' me with. Even if I was stronger, I didn't want to be. I had never asked to be stronger. I had never asked to be like this. I hadn't even asked to trigger. Only Bonesaw had made trigger, and nobody I knew would have done something like that. Emma, my parents, my teachers, none of them would have made me into something so... so inhuman, would they?

Was a piece of Bonesaw inside everyone? Was everyone secretly, deep down in their hearts, a murderer like her? Or was I just pretending that it wasn't my fault that she took me away?

I had fallen asleep. I hadn't locked the windows. My parents had been out. Was it me? Was I the single correlating factor that had ruined everything? I didn't want to be. I didn't want that at all, it made me feel awful and horrible but it _could _be true. It would make sense, wouldn't it?

I shook my head free of awful thoughts as the doctor gave me new clothes, apparently my parents had bought some for me to wear when we left. A simple shirt, black, and jeans. I changed quickly in a closet, frowning as I left, realizing how much the black accentuated my scars.

The hospital lobby was dark, a moody black and white with soft singing in the background. Couches lined the walls, and there were tables with chairs scattered intermittently about the place. I looked around, and found my parents, my dad pacing back and forth in worry, while mom flipped through a magazine without reading a single word.

I walked over to them, and my mom looked up, and our eyes met – her vivid green meeting my now startlingly bright brown. I stood awkwardly next to her, and she grabbed me, pulling me close as I stiffened in her arms at the contact.

"Taylor..." she said, her voice quiet and choked with emotion. "I was so, _so _worried. You were gone for _days_, and then we hear that... that a super villain had been in the area, had been_kidnapping _people. And then you walked in covered in... covered in _stitches _and wearing bloody rags and oh God... sweetie, I want you to answer me honestly." She looked me in the eyes, her own brimming with tears.

"Are you okay?"

Was I okay? I didn't know. I could invade minds. I could slip between the cracks of the human consciousness and _steal thoughts_. What else could I do, if that was just the most basic piece of my power? What else could I become? There was so much potential and adaptability just in passive mind reading – what if I could do _more_? Would I become a monster? No, worse.

Would I become the _Simurgh?_

Bad thoughts roamed through my head, and I looked at my mom with a bright, sunny smile. "I'm fine mom. Honestly." Blood and hate and _Bonesaw _flashed through my mind. But so did Sam. "Really, I think... I think I just want... I just want..."

I wanted to be normal. I wanted to laugh with Emma. I wanted to dance with Sam. I wanted to go to school. I wanted so many impossible things.

"I just wanna go home."

She nodded, standing slowly and holding my hand tightly. "Alright. Let's go home, okay? Your dad's just checking out of the hospital, and once we do that, we'll just get in the car and _go_. Straight to the highway, and right back to our city."

She sighed, giving me a small, tired smile. "I missed Brockton Bay too. The smell of the sea, the fog rolling in, the sunshine breaking through... I missed it all. I can't wait to be back."

I squeezed her hand back, giving her a smile of my own. "Me too, mom. Me too."

* * *

**Extraction 1.5**

The next few events passed in a blur as I played with my power, dancing through minds like a ballerina crossing the stage, weaving a tapestry of events like a painter uses paint, watching, acknowledging, _comprehending _what I could do.

I hated Bonesaw. I hated Bonesaw as much as I had ever hated anything, as much as I had despised the dentist, and she was the reason I could do this. The reason that I was able to jump from mind to mind not out of necessity or need, but _boredom_. Police interviews were dull. A series of questions that passed over me; name of the villain, what happened, and other questions.

I refused to answer what happened to me. I wanted to pretend it was gone, that nothing had happened, that my skin was as flawless as it had been the day I was born, that there had never been stitches or scars or _pain_ that still hummed in the back of my mind. It wasn't true, because it couldn't have been true.

"Taylor?" My mom asked, and I looked up from the back seat with curiosity visible on my face. She looked worried, and she reached back and ruffled my hair, no longer as ratty as it had been when I was with Sam. I had been grateful to the police for allowing me a _shower _before the questioning, but my mind had still wandered.

I shuddered at the thought of my mind _wandering_, because it was no longer a metaphorical statement, but quite literal. My mind could go on trips far away from my body, and there was always the chance it wouldn't return, even if my power told me where I was when I did so.

I smiled at my mother, faintly aware of stretching pale skin that didn't feel like my own. I wouldn't read my parents' minds, it was the one thing I had sworn to myself. Even if out of boredom and apathy I searched minds, it wasn't like it _hurt _anyone! I was just interested! People had fascinating, incredible thoughts and I wanted to see them all. I wanted to see someone climb Everest, to touch Scion. I wanted to watch any and everything I could, learn from all these people who keep such events to themselves, because the innocence and depravity that my power had shown me so far was beautiful, if slightly terrifying.

"What is it mom?" I asked, my mind focused on this moment for _the _moment, forcing myself to look at her, not out the window at lights flashing by and the hum of engines going past.

"You were a little distant during the interview, like... you weren't all there. Are you sure you're fine, Taylor?"

I gave her a small smile and nodded slightly, not wanting to be a bother. My mom was always worrying about me, and she never had a bad thing to say about _anyone_, no matter what they had done. I loved my mom, because I was sure she would never betray me, that she would always be there for me.

My mom was _amazing_.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit... out of it, you know? It's like I'm in a different skin, and I'm worried that I can't control myself."

That was a half-truth, at the very least. I had _ripped _the memories out of the doctor's mind, without want or care for what he was doing for me, and I'd done it so easily. It had felt good, delving that deep and seeing what had happened like I was there. It was scary. Terrifying in a way that I could barely understand. I had felt like myself and _not _myself, at the same time. What if Bonesaw had messed with my head? What if she had made me into, well, _not_ me? Was I still really Taylor, if I was so quick to rip memories out of heads?

My mom nodded sympathetically, giving me a smile. "I understand, honey. It happens. Things... things change. One day we're just coasting through life, and then the next day _wham!" _She smacked the back of her seat, and I jolted at the sound, like flesh on flesh, like _Bonesaw's _hands on my _muscles_, and I forced myself to listen to my mom, drown out the memories in my mind, the maddening whisper of what Bonesaw's power had done to me. I wanted to _crush her _with my power, _turn her into a gibbering wreck, _and break her into a hundred thousand pieces, and stand over her, showing her that I was better, stonger, and it wasn't because of her.

My mom continued to speak, and I listened. "But Taylor... even if your body changed, you're still _you_. No matter how much you change, you're still _Taylor Hebert_, my daughter, who I love very much. Just remember that now you've got power, even if you didn't want it."

I blinked at her, and my mind panicked, my power surging forward automatically before I _wrenched _it back. This was my mom, I wouldn't touch her mind. "What are you talking about mom?"

She smiled and sighed, looking out the window with me for a moment. Green lights turned into streaks as we drove past them, mixing with the darkness of the night in a way that made them twinkle brighter then the stars. She watched as we passed sign after sign, the road a dull black and gray as my dad drove closer and closer to Brockton Bay.

"What that villain did to you... you're _different _than other people now, Taylor. You're stronger. Faster. It's not fun to be better then others, people get... offended by it. So you have to be better then them, okay? You have to be stronger, not in here," she tapped my arm, the arm that I had used to rip through leather straps, "But in _here_." She pressed a finger on my heart, and I groaned.

"_Mom_, that's such a cliché! I've read that a hundred times in fairy tales!" I glared at her, my glowing brown meeting her bright green, which twinkled merrily.

"It's a cliché for a _reason, _Taylor. You're stronger. You're faster. You can do things normal people can't do, and they'll either love you or hate you. So you have to be better then them. You have to make friends to have _friends_, not because you can. You have to use what that villain did to you for _good_, not for personal gain, alright? Because you're going to be watched."

"But... But I don't _want _to be watched. I just want to be normal."

My mom sighed, and looked at me again. She was crying. Tears fell down her face one after another, and I shifted uncomfortably, not knowing how to react to my mom crying, because her words were hitting a bit closer than she might think. I did have power, but it was different than what she thought, more startling and horrible for _me_.

"Taylor... I know. I'm so, _so _sorry honey, but that can't happen. So just promise me, okay? Don't use your power unless it's to _protect _something important to you. Not for pointless stuff, something that really, really matters to you. Okay?"

Could I do that? I didn't like breaking promises to anyone, but especially to my parents. Could I do that, though? Because she thought we were talking about what _Bonesaw _had done to my body, but for me, that promise would be something more. It would be twofold – a promise to her about what Bonesaw had done to me, and a promise to _myself_. To control what _I _could do, force myself to reign my power in when it wanted to roam free. I wanted to believe I had that sort of willpower, but I wasn't sure if I did.

I felt so small compared to my ability. There was always that rumor that capes were more powerful if they triggered younger, and my ability dwarfed me in such a way that I felt that it was controlling me, rather than the other way around. I had to master my power, if I wanted to master myself. I couldn't be a cape if I casually ripped memories from minds, if I hurt people because I didn't understand my power.

What should I do? Was I ready for that? Could I overcome something that seemed so _incredible _compared to me?

Bonesaw was about my age, though. And Bonesaw was ready. She was ready, and she was _insane_. She would find me again, and if I didn't have my power under control, there would be little I could do to stop her from taking me again, from making me hers. I wasn't Bonesaw's toy, I was my own person.

Even if I felt out of place in my skin.

Even if I no longer recognized the scars on my body.

Even if I didn't feel like _me_ anymore.

I looked up at my mom again, who was waiting with bated breath for my answer. Car after car zoomed past, turning into a metallic blur in the window in moments. I felt their minds pass me by, and I reached out for them on instinct...

And then I drew my power back, and smiled widely at my mom.

"Mom, don't worry. I promise."

She sighed with relief, ruffling my hair one last time before turning back to the front, and beginning a quiet conversation with my dad. I looked out the windshield again, and my eyes traced the latest road sign with exhaustion and happiness.

Brockton Bay was only a few miles away.

* * *

**Interlude 1**

The room was as silent as a grave, and ludicrously spartan. It had white walls and a wooden floors, with a single overhead light, turned off. A window the size of the wall showed the New York skyline, and a single table, white sat in the middle, a circular piece in the middle of the square room. A man sat in one of the chairs, his cape falling lightly behind him.

Legend. Arguably one of the strongest heroes in the world, and a member of the Triumvirate, drummed his fingers on the table, looking out at the skyline with a furrowed brow.

"...They're late." He said, sighing as he removed his helmet, revealing a man of about thirty, with close cropped black hair and a clean shaven face, who looked extremely out of place in the costume compared to the stern man in the mask of before. Without anyone there, he was less of a hero and more of a _man_, alone and waiting for the other two members Triumvirate to arrive.

Legend looked out the window, at the vast New York skyline, and felt a pang in his heart. He didn't want to be here, discussing the cry for help that he had heard in his mind. He would rather be at home with his partner and their son, watching television. Not the possibilities of psychics, or the chance that a telepath was real, and what it would mean.

He heard the door open and shut, and he turned with a grin towards the man who entered.

"Hello David, how have you been?" He asked, and Legend's voice was rough and deep, and it rumbled through his throat before exiting, almost more of the voice of a lion then of a man. Eidolon clapped a hand on Legend's shoulder before he sat down himself, his shoulders sagging in exhaustion.

"Are you alright?" Legend asked, his voice filled with concern for his friend, a man he'd worked with side by side for years. "If you're not feeling well..."

"I'm fine." Eidolon replied. He was curt, his voice cutting off as quickly as it had spoken. "We need to discuss that... that _scream_."

Legend sighed, nodding his head in agreement. As much as he wished to ignore what had occurred, it was necessary to review. His heart felt heavy as he thought of the scream.

All it had wanted was _help_, and he had not been able to a do a single thing. He was _Legend_, a member of the Triumvirate, one of the strongest heroes in the world, and he had not done anything to help the screamer. He had searched all over New York.

Then he had searched the east coast. And still, he had found nothing, no sign, not a _hint _of the person who had been screaming and begging for help. Legend had become a cape to help others, and for the longest time, he had forgotten that. His powers had been used to fight Endbringers and villains, instead of for what he had originally acquired them for - to protect. For the first time since the very first Endbringer fight, Legend had felt weak. Unworthy of the power he held. Not strong enough for _others_, let alone himself. He had let down this person who had triggered and felt so much pain that they had _screamed across the world_. Legend did not feel like the man who had helped drive off so many Endbringer attacks, who had led the New York Protectorate for years, but like a drowning man.

"Yes," Legend said, his voice quiet, as guilt stormed through him, reaching from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, "Yes we do."

He sat in silence with Eidolon for a time, turning his gaze back to the window. The skyline was beautiful, a pinnacle of humanity's capacity, in his mind. He had flown above it so many times, and each and every one of them was brilliant. He remembered blue skies and gray skies and sunsets with his partner. It made him wonder about how the screamer had felt. Was it sunrise? Sunset? What had they been doing before they triggered? Why couldn't he stop it?

Thoughts of inadequacy and desire for change roamed through his mind. He struggled with it, the idea of not being able to _find _this new cape, and apologize for what he hadn't been able to do for them.

There was a light knock on the door, which then immediately opened, and Alexandria walked in, her black costume with the white lighthouse blatantly advertising her identity.

"...Alexandria." Legend said with a nod. He and she had always been at odds on how to run the Protectorate, with Alexandria wanting a more hands on, hard hitting approach, while he had always preferred to take a _step back_, and review what was going on. With the amount of power they wielded, he had always felt that it was better to be _honorable_, to do the right thing, than to do the most damage in the least amount of time.

He worried about the day where Alexandria would succeed him.

Alexandria gave him a cordial glance, before taking her seat. The Triumvirate had assembled, and it was time for the discussion. Legend _hated _discussions like this: whether or not a new cape was a threat, whether they should be recruited or thrown in the Birdcage. He hated the clinical approach Alexandria and Eidolon took towards this, it was almost _inhuman_**, **and it baffled him that his friend – that David, could be so callous.

"Let's begin," Alexandria said, and her voice was just as sharp and curt as her personality, cutting like a knife through butter and straight to the point. "I assume we all heard the scream." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, her brow furrowing. "I've been in meetings with the Board _all day _to talk about telepaths. We'd spent so long assuring them that telepathy was impossible that this? This is the scariest thing they've heard about capes in _years_. Everyone has secrets, and a telepath can take them freely. It's bad for business, and it's bad for the Protectorate." She stretched, cracking her knuckles with a loud sound, and Legend looked on sourly, hating the noise. "So, we need to decide _now. _Before the new cape comes out as a hero or a villain. Are we going to let them run free, or are they a Threat?"

"Threat." Eidolon said, his voice frustrated and annoyed. "Telepathy is dangerous. Nothing would be secret, and the new cape would hold all the cards in the _world _in their hands. The mere threat of their _presence _would cause governments to fall. We can't have that."

Legend clenched his fists. The ease, the hopeless, _simple _ease that Eidolon had decided about this new cape offended him. What if Arthur had been a telepath, or worse, what if it had been _Keith _who had triggered dangerously? Would Eidolon be tossing them aside as easily as he had this unknown factor?

"Agreed. Telepathy is dangerous in a way that we can't really understand currently. If the cape comes forward, we'll declare them an A-Class threat. Stranger and Master protocols, the works. Now, moving on, the Endbringers are-"

"**No.**"

Legend heard his own voice boom through the small room, and he stood up, towering over the rest of the Triumvirate. "I will _not _sit here while you decide that a _human being's _life is forfeit because of their power. I will _never _fall that far from my ideals, no matter what they tell me to do. If I must turn a blind eye to certain aspects of the Protectorate, things that _you _do Alexandria, I will. But if you attack this new parahuman because of their abilities, I will fight you. I will fight you to my last breath."

"Legen-"

He cut Alexandria off as he moved, his body _screaming _with power that he had yet to unleash, his eyes hissing golden sparks when he looked at her, as she stood up too. Alexandria was _smaller _then him, but that was no reason to underestimate her. He may have been one of the strongest, but so was she.

"No. I refuse. I will not allow you to classify the telepath as an A-Class threat, because of something they _might _do. We know nothing about them. We only know their power. You are not going to label someone whose only crime is begging for _help _a threat."

Alexandria glared at him, and he glared back at her. Power bristled in the air, tension underlying the argument like firecrackers. It was an argument long coming, Legend knew that. It was an argument about power and _what they wanted _and the directions the Protectorate was taking.

"The psychic scream originated near Brockton Bay," Eidolon said, his presence near the two somewhat calming as he clapped them on the shoulder. "Anyone we know there?"

"Armsmaster," Alexandria said as she turned away, brushing non existent dust from her shoulder. "He's competent; dangerously competent, but I'm not familiar enough with him to know if he could deal with a telepath."

Legend thought. He thought of the skyline, of Arthur, and of Keith. He thought of how far Eidolon had fallen, and how high Alexandria had risen. He thought of the difference between him and his friends, and with grim determination he spoke.

"I will go."

They looked at him with raised eyebrows and confusion.

"I will go to Brockton Bay. Eidolon can take my place in New York, he's strong enough. I will go to Brockton Bay, and find this new parahuman."

He waited with baited breath, and almost sagged in relief as the other two members of the Triumvirate nodded.

"Good," Alexandria murmured, before looking him straight in the eyes. "And when you do..."

He left. He did not want to hear what Alexandria required of him, because he already knew what he would do when he met the parahuman.

Fall on his knees, and beg for forgiveness.

* * *

This has a bit of edits and 200 less word (oh noooo) but is also the completed version of chapter 1. The previous was my word doc, which is intermixed with my GoogleDocs because I'm an idiot.


	2. Gestation

**Neurocracy Arc 2 is here! I'd like to thank Mishie and Roarian for being wonderful betas, and remind everyone that I update everyday on SB!**

* * *

**Gestation 2.1**

"Taylor, wake up honey!"

My eyes opened for a moment, before squeezing shut again. I was still tired from the night before, staying up late to chat with Emma for what seemed like _days._

"Taylor, you can't stay in bed! It's a very important day, you _know _that!"

I organized my thoughts into tidy rows instead of a jumbled mess, trying to recall what my mom seemed to think I should know. It took a moment, until suddenly, it hit me.

_First day of high school._

I bolted out of my bed, throwing on the outfit I had picked out the night before with Emma as fast as I could, thanking god that I had showered before going to sleep. Rushing to the bathroom, I hurried through brushing my teeth and washing my face, scowling at the scars in the mirror. Emma had urged me to try make up, but the scars I had were a _part _of me. They reminded me of what I had been through, more then my pale skin and glowing eyes. My scars reminded me that for all that had gone wrong in my life, I was still _me_.

I absentmindedly traced the half circle that started on my left cheekbone and crossed over my lips, arcing down in a slimmed curved line to my jaw. It was hard to _forget _about it, after all.

Hard to forget about _her._

Shaking my head free of those thoughts, I rushed downstairs, my feet stomping down the steps as I slid into the kitchen, giving my mom a glare. "You could have woken me up!"

She winked at me, ruffling my hair, and I batted her hand away, grabbing the toast off of the counter and biting into it. My mom sighed, humming to herself.

"Taylor, I'm still driving you, you don't have to go that fast."

"_Mooooooom!_" I groaned, desperation and pleading obvious in my voice. I didn't want my first day to open up with being driven to school by my _mom _that would be _absolutely humiliating. _I would forever be 'that girl whose mom drove her on the first day'.

...Which, admittedly, would probably be better than my actual reputation. Maybe my mom driving me wouldn't be so bad.

"Are you ready for school, though?" My mom looked me in the eye, and I shuffled on my feet under her gaze. My mom _always _knew when I was lying, and I hated lying to her anyways; even when it was about little stuff, like doing my homework, or spending the night at Emma's.

"...Yeah. It'll be fine, right? I'm your daughter, after all." I gave her a bright smile, and she grinned back at me, ruffling my hair again, laughing as I tried to brush her hand off.

"Alright kiddo. Give me a minute, I'll be right out."

I walked out the door, and deeply inhaled, letting the salty air wash over me. It was a beautiful day in Brockton for once, and the scent of the sea flew past my nostrils. The sun shone brightly, and I saw tiny pinpricks of water falling from leaves, and the quiet chirping of birds sung through my ears.

It was a really nice day, my first day of school. I waited with bated breath for my mom, and crossed my fingers and prayed.

Please let my first day go well. It was hard enough coming back after... after _that_, but I'd really appreciate it if my first day went well. No accidents, no pain, and no fans. Just a normal day.

"I'm ready, let's go!"

My mom flounced out of the house, opening the car door with a flourish. I, on the other hand, quietly walked over to the car and opened the door meekly, sitting down quietly next to my mom.

"I'm sorry your Dad couldn't be here Taylor," My mom said as the engine started, and the hum of it followed us, "But he has work. Ever since Legend arrived, he's been working _twice _as hard to get the Docks open again. Only been four years, and he's nearly there! Docks grand opening in two weeks!"

I nodded absentmindedly, looking out the window. Legend's arrival had... _changed _things, although people argued whether they were for the better or worse. Crime had gone down, it was almost _extinct _in most of the Bay. Legend had changed from his time in New York – he went out more, he went after villains and cracked down on crime when he took charge of the local Protectorate.

A man lifted heavy boxes outside, and almost distractedly, my mind reached out, grasping at the tendrils of his thoughts before I _wrenched _it back, but not fast enough. I blinked with surprise. There were still members of Empire Eighty-Eight in Brockton? That was a surprise; Legend had gone after the supremacists and the drug dealers with an almost eerie single mindedness when he'd arrived. The Eighty-Eight were barely a memory at this point: they still existed, but they were never as blatant as they had been before Legend's arrival. Drugs were back to being dealt sneakily in the streets, and gang violence and murder was the farthest down in history.

Brockton Bay was becoming a tourist city again, the coastal city to visit to meet with capes: the lack of crime made it perfect, _and _we had one of the Triumvirate leading our Protectorate.

We had _the _Legend. I still had trouble grasping it, that _Legend _had come to Brockton Bay almost the instant I had returned. He had turned this city into something magical and beautiful, and it made me wonder why he had been in New York for so long. New York was _enormous_, and Legend couldn't be everywhere at once. But here in Brockton, he had made a difference. And it had made a difference on him.

You could tell. When he spoke, he spoke of Brockton with _pride _in his deep, rumbling voice, his clean shaven face smiling broadly as he spoke about the city with passion. People treated Legend like he had lived with us all his life, like he had been the leader of the local Protectorate for as long as they could remember, and he in turn treated everyone like a _hero _should. When Legend fought the Endbringers, the people waited with bated breath for the end of the fight, for the invincible, noble hero to return. I'd always heard stories when I was little about Legend. He had books published about him, tales of his and Hero's exploits, the story of their journeys.

My mom drove through the Docks slowly, as I thought about Legend and what he had done for the Bay. The rumbling as we crossed over the bridge into downtown was, as always, fascinating, and I turned to watch the drawbridge slowly go up after our car had passed over it.

"You've loved that bridge, ever since you were small, when you swore you would fly over it one day."

I blushed, turning back to my mom quickly. "I just think it's neat, that's all. It's nothing like that."

My mom smiled at me as she turned onto my school's street, and kissed me lightly on the cheek. "Of course it isn't, sweetie. Have fun at school!"

I got out of the car, and looked up at my school with a gulp. Arcadia High was where the Wards went, it was where _I _was going to go. I didn't bother looking around for Emma; she wasn't going to Arcadia. My parents had pulled strings to get me in, but they could afford it. My mom worked as a professor at a high profile college, and dad was one of the people in charge of commerce in the Bay: and the Bay got a _lot _of commerce now. I walked forward, and took a deep breath before I stepped onto campus, letting the wave of voices wash over me, hearing the mundane things they talked about.

"Did you hear what Brett did to Janie? Poor Janie, I feel so _bad_ for her"

"Fucking Sox losing two to one _bullshit _man, _absolute bullshit_..."

"Hey! Taylor!"

I turned at my name, and a slim boy ran up to me with a grin. He was attractive in a fairly unconvential way, with a slim face and thin features, and curly red hair stopped before me. He extended a hand.

"I'm Dennis, nice to meet you! I've read a _ton _about you, and I think that-"

Oh.

Well, _fuck _Dennis.

I turned and began to walk away. I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone who was somehow fascinated by what I'd gone through. I glared at my pale skin, rubbing the long sleeved shirt I'd worn in order to cover more of the scars in gratitude. It was only really noticeable who I was if you looked at my face, the scar across my nose and the one that went up my right cheek straight to my eye, and especially the one that trailed down to my jaw were all extremely recognizable, in the worst sort of way. I was Taylor Hebert, the girl who Bonesaw had tortured when she was ten.

I was _Frankenstein_. I had never submitted to testing my powers, because I was worried about what it would say. If I was rated too low, what if she came _back?_

"Hey! Wait up!"

I didn't wait up for Dennis, preferring to speed up instead. Anyone who had read about me should know that I_hated _people focusing on my scars.

Suddenly, he was in front of me. "Look, I didn't mean it like that. Sometimes I just say stuff, y'know?" He winked at me roguishly, running a hand through his hair. "Anyways, me and a couple others were planning to get together after school, and we were wondering if you'd like to-"

"Pass. I have an appointment."

"Oh?" He asked, sounded much more interested than before. "With who? I'd heard you _hated _doing that sort of thing."

I bit the inside of my lip, suddenly nervous. I wasn't good at talking to people, even though Emma had tried to introduce me to some of her friends. I was terrible, _terrible _at talking to people. I always wondered which of my scars they were tracing with their eyes, or if my hair looked fine, or if my skin was too pale again.

"Look, it's no big deal, alright? Just swing by Fugly Bob's if you have the time. It'll be fun. There'll probably be a few people you _might even know _there! It's gonna be great, and I've always wanted to hang out with someone with scars as badass as yours!"

The bell rang, and Dennis ran off, waving a hand behind him. "Catch ya later, Taylor. You should come afterwards, I promise you'll enjoy yourself!"

I shook my head, looking down at my schedule that had been in my pocket, nodding with relief that I knew where the class I was going to was.

"Badass, though? Really?" I murmured to myself, and my lips twitched against my will. Dennis, for all his lack of manners when he'd introduced himself, maybe he was a bit... funny?

I frowned as my glasses slipped down, pushing them back up. And a small smile breached my face as I entered the class I was going to.

Even though I hadn't tried, It seemed like I might have made a _friend._

* * *

**Gestation 2.2**

"...I'm sure you all cared very much about the syllabus and such, but it's time for lunch. Go have fun."

The class ended with a murmur of noise as the bell rang, and I collected my things and left. It had felt fast, like barely anytime had past at all between entering and the class ending. I remembered noise, and whispering from my classmates. About me. About my scars, my skin.

I tried to forget it as I walked to the cafeteria, but I kept thinking about it as I stood in the lunch line – was I really that interesting? Interesting enough for Dennis to stop me and invite me after school, interesting enough to be _talked _about?

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up, smiling slightly at the message. It was from Emma.

_scaaaaaarssss wat r u doan_

I frowned at her grammar, but began to type out a response anyways. She'd called me scars for a while, after hearing what my 'cape' name was. She said it was 'totally uncreative' and that the people who came up with it 'were literally the worst'. I had laughed as she had sat there thinking deeply about what to call me, before snapping her fingers and settling on Scars. It was a bit... off-putting, at first, but I got used to it. I had hoped it would help me overcome some of my social anxiety, having Emma call me that. It hadn't yet, but I was still hopeful.

_Waiting in line for food. Bit hungry._

_fien b dat way jerkkkk. Im going to be the literal queen of this place by the end of the week its totally great_

Emma had decided that if I couldn't make friends, than she would _help _me do it. She'd dragged me around, and I'd met models and actresses and capes with her, people she'd met at benefits and concerts that she wanted to show me off to. "You're better then you think Scars," she'd told me. "Waaaay better than you think. Your stock is _amazing _and you should totally be able to make a ton of friends!"

I wasn't that confident.

_That's great. I'm just going to eat lunch._

_Gj make friends u nerd ill look bad if my bestest friend has zero friends the end of her 1stday_

I snickered, shutting the phone as I picked up the tray, wrinkling my nose at the smell. Gray paste on a steel plate, with milk and a few pieces of what _might _be french fries. I looked around the cafeteria, and my knees felt weak. I didn't know anyone in there; it seemed Dennis either had a different lunch period, or ate outside. Lunch hadn't been so bad with Emma: I'd just eat with her and whoever she'd brought along, and she was great at getting me to be normal, telling them stories and making jokes, until I lightened up and was able to just _talk _to people. I wasn't sure if I could do it alone, especially not on my first day.

I sat alone in the corner, poking at my food with a fork. For a moment, I could have sworn it _twitched_. I sighed, brushing a stray strand of brown hair from my eyes, when something _slammed _into the seat across from me.

Flicking my eyes up, I saw what could have been mistaken for a thug. Blonde hair tied into a ponytail bounced against her back, and her angry eyes met my terrified ones, as did a black shirt telling me to "Fuck off", and a white long sleeve underneath. Legs wearing black pants with chains stretched out to the side, and she grinned a wicked grin.

"What? Can't the mighty _Frankenstein _bear to be seen with us mere mortals?" Her voice had a lilt to it, and she should have been one of those people with a sunny personality, who brought light and life to everything around her, not someone so... _angry._

"No, it's not that," I said, my voice quiet and nervous, and my eyes flicked around the room, wondering if anyone had noticed. It hadn't seemed so, but every now and then _eyes _would dance over towards me and the angry girl, who was currently stabbing into her paste with a fork and snatching it off with an almost single-minded ferocity as her teeth approached it. It was a little bit worrying how angry she seemed, even when just eating. "I just... I just didn't expect anyone to sit with, well... _me_."

"I don't give a shit who you are," She said, rolling her eyes as she stabbed another piece of food. "I just know that you were here when _that _fucker moved in, and you're a cape. Wanted to see how you were doing."

"I – fine. I'm doing fine."

"Great." She ripped off another piece of food, pausing with the fork still in her mouth, bouncing it up and down in her teeth. "Fucking ridiculous, though. Capes."

I stayed silent. I didn't need to read her mind to know she had something she wanted to say; I could _feel_the anger and frustration pouring off of her.

"Seriously. He fucking moves in, and suddenly nothing else matters. It's all about fucking _Legend_. Sorry that New Wave's not good enough for you, Brockton. Just a..." She stabbed more of her food, almost tossing it into her mouth as her eyes looked at me, filled with hate and rage that I prayed would never be directed towards _me_. "Fucking _footnote _in the annals of his goddamn takeover."

"Wait. Legend? What's he done?" I asked, my voice honestly curious. I'd heard of detractors towards Legend, but I'd never met any. "He's cut down crime, only the Tigers really operate in Brockton anymore, and Empire 88 in small parts of it."

"Yeah, that's what they tell you, y'know? It's fucking **bullshit**, that's what it is. New Wave and the Protectorate did goddamn fine _before _him. He just wanted some more fucking fame, for some bullshit city that he barely cared about. What the fuck does he want in Brockton? Four years and he's never said_anything _about why he moved here. Gangs stop going after the Protectorate, yeah but," she paused, ripping a piece of meat angrily from her fork, still covered in gray, "Who the fuck do you think they went after instead? Course they went for New Wave. Course they killed Flashbang. Dead as a fucking doornail, and not even a fucking _mention _from Legend. 'Sorry for your loss and shit New Wave, but I have shit to_do_.' Fuck Legend."

I nodded hesitantly. In a strange way, what this angry girl was saying made sense, even if Legend had mostly made _my _life better. I was a 'rogue', and Legend encouraged that. He didn't want more fighters, and asked that people just try to be good _people _instead of good capes.

"I... I guess I get what you're saying...?" I paused, blushing. I hadn't gotten the girl's name.

"Shit. Fuck. Sorry, my bad. I got caught up in my own bullshit, forgot to tell ya my name." She shoveled some food into her mouth, chewing angrily as she spoke. "Name's Vix. Yeah, V-I-X. S'not what my 'rents named me, but its _my _goddamn name alright?"

I nodded, and smiled at her, a bit shy. Vix was loud and crass, but she was _nice_, in her own way. "I'm Taylor. Taylor Hebert."

Vix scoffed as she polished off the last of the gray in her tray. "Yeah, course you are. Who _doesn't _fucking know about Taylor Hebert? You got tortured by fucking Bonesaw when you were what, _ten_? Shit, I was only like fucking _twelve _when you triggered."

"R-really? What were you doing?" I asked, hoping to learn more about Vix, and the angry blonde shrugged her shoulders as she dropped her fork in disgust.

"Surviving." Her tone was short, curt, and frustrated. I nodded hesitantly, and we sat in silence for a moment as we ate. The clang of forks on metal and murmurs of noise washed over me, and I gratefully accepted it. Although Vix was welcome, she was so _angry_, and it was a bit scary for me. The glances that were sent our way every now and then didn't help either. It felt like I was being judged in a way, tested for something I didn't understand.

Suddenly, Vix clapped and stood up with a wicked grin. "You're a cape, right?" Her eyes glinted dangerously, and I looked at her with apprehension.

"Rogue, actually. Nothing useful, but-"

"Good. Let's fight." She was almost _shaking _with anticipation, and I almost bolted out of my seat, looking at her in shock as we stood; her a few inches taller then me.

"We can't! You might be a parahuman and all, but I might-"

Vix laughed. She threw back her head and laughed long and loudly, and it was like bells and sunshine dancing in my ears. It was dead silent in the room as Vix placed her foot on the bench and leaned on her knee with the grin of a _shark._

"You didn't know? This is fucking great. Brilliant. I'm not a fucking normal, Taylor. I'm the _best_. I'm the _best_of the best. I'm Victoria fucking Dallon, also known as..." She casually moved her foot on the bench, and it_flipped _in the air, doing several somersaults before she caught it with one hand, and slammed it back down. The rattling of the metal legs as the table settled back into place was the only sound in the entire cafeteria as everyone watched the two of us.

"Glory _motherfucking _Girl."

I hadn't thought that _the _Victoria Dallon was Vix. I'd heard that Victoria was a bit abrasive, but Vix was_more _than a little bit abrasive, she was one of the most crass people I'd ever met. Vix brushed past me, and she whispered on my ear as she walked. "See you on the roof."

She left the room, and suddenly the blonde and angry girl I'd befriended was gone, and everyone was staring at me.

I felt alone. Lost. I wanted Emma, or my mom, or _somebody _to distract me from the eyes staring at power began to reach out, brushing every mind present, and I panicked, the thoughts beginning to flow into my head slowly at first, then faster and _faster, _until I regained control, gripping my power and _forcing_it back into me.

I took one step, then two. Eyes followed my every move.

I ran after Vix, headed for the roof.

* * *

**Gestation ****2.3**

"Fuck yeah! You totally came!"

I squinted, looking up at a graying sky and a girl in black sitting casually on top of the small generator on the building. She was grinning widely, her fingers drumming against the generator with a repeating beat – bumbumbum _bum. _Bumbumbum _bum._ She tapped it endlessly, and it began to grate on my nerves.

"Why wouldn't I?" I asked in confusion, trying to ignore the beat. Bumbumbum _bum. _"We're friends... right?"

She smiled at me, hopping off the generator, the beat blessedly stopping. "Yeah. But most people don't let friends just fuck them up 'cause they feel like it. You... you're different, Taylor. You're just a different kind of person. Like a myth or some shit."

I stared at her, and her angry eyes met my calm ones. She cracked her neck to one side, then the other, the sound reaching even across the roof.

"You ready for this shit? I don't hold back against capes. You're not some fucking pushover _bitch _from the Tigers, you're a goddamn threat."

I hesitated again. I didn't really want to fight Vix. I liked her. I liked the energy she brought with her, even if it was _angry _energy. I liked the way she spoke her mind, and didn't care about _things_. It was fun.

Maybe... it would help her? Would it help her if she fought me? If Vix and I were friends, then she wouldn't have asked for something like this if she didn't think it wouldn't do anything. Friends don't do that to each other. Emma had taught me enough about friendship to know that. If it would help Vix to let her fight me, then I would.

"...Yeah. Just give me a second."

Vix scoffed, spitting onto the ground. Clouds swirled overhead, and I glanced up. Gray had replaced the clear skies of earlier, and I could almost sense the storm brewing in the air.

"Well?" The blonde said, hopping back and forth from one foot to the other. "We don't have all fucking day Taylor. We have like thirty goddamn minutes."

I took off my glasses, and shook my hair free. Glowing brown met gunmetal gray, and I gave her a small grin, taking a hesitant stance, with both my hands clenched into fists.

"Yeah. Let's go."

I only saw Vix's grin before she _slammed _into me, her fist hitting my face like a freight train, and I _flew_across the roof, my back hitting the chain link fence on the other side with a crash, and I gasped for breath. Vix's fists _hurt_. No, **Glory Girl's **fists hurt. Vix couldn't punch like that, that was all Glory Girl.

"Fucking serious? That's all you got? Fuck Frankenstein, I'd heard such _good_shit about you. And this is it?" Vix sighed, and through blurry eyes I saw her run a hand through blonde hair. "Shit, did I go too hard?_Fuck, _Amy always tells me I go too hard. Slow the fuck down, but I can't, , not even for my little sis.. Shit, you've _gotta_ be alright, okay? That can't be all it took, right? Nah. You're _Frankenstein_. Come on, **get up.**"

I stood up, my knees feeling weak, and sent her a weak grin. "I'm not _that _easy Glory Girl. Let's go."

I rushed at her this time, my body feeling _faster _and _lighter _as I moved, and Glory Girl moved out of the way like lightning as I threw my own punch towards her gut, missing by a mile. I'd taken a few self defense classes, but nothing concrete, and even then I'd always relied on my own abilities to strengthen me, rather than the skills the teachers were trying to impart.

"Shit Franky, you thought you could hit me with that weaksauce? Come _on_, that's not how you throw a punch."

My eyes flicked around the area, absorbing more and more detail. There was no sign of Glory Girl, and I felt a droplet of rain hit my nose. My eyes glanced upward, and widened as I saw the streaking arc of white and black coming towards me, and I rolled out of the way as it _slammed _into the spot I had just been standing, a crater replacing what had been solid concrete, and a girl in black with white sleeves and a grin standing where I had been.

"_That's _a motherfucking **punch!**"

Glory Girl was stronger than me. She was faster than me. She had more experience than me. I could tell by the way she walked towards me, slowly sauntering with a wicked grin and cracking her knuckles. I would have no chance in hand to hand with her, even less if I let her set the momentum. If I'd learned one thing from the Dockworkers my father knew, it was the simplest lesson of all.

If you're losing a fight, you don't fight back. You _cheat._

I watched as Glory Girl rushed me again, grabbing her hand with my own, feeling the bones _snap _as the momentum threw us both forward, smashing against the door where we could enter the school, and I gritted my teeth. It was nothing, _nothing _compared to what Bonesaw had done to me. And it would fix itself in a bit anyways.

Rain and thunder boomed outside, as Glory Girl's eyes widened, my knee jerking upwards into her stomach, and she staggered back with a cough. I pressed the advantage, using all of my strength to punch her jaw with an uppercut, and the taller, older girl fell to the ground, spitting out blood.

"_Fuck_. That one hurt a bit." She grinned a bloodstained grin, standing back up as she spat red onto the floor, and looked me dead in the eye. "Won't let that shit get through again."

I gulped as Glory Girl flew into the air, and pointed at me dramatically. "Your days of wickedness are over evildoer! I will destroy you!"

Looking up at her, I cocked my head. "What are you talking about? I'm not a villain."

She paused momentarily, and then shrugged. "Dunno, just seemed like some shit my mom would say during a fight." She zoomed upwards in the air, and I clenched my left hand, feeling the bones in my right still tingling, reknitting themselves after Glory Girl's last hit. I prepared my left arm, as Glory Girl began her downward descent towards me, picking up speed with her right hand extended. I waited with bated breath until she neared me, then took the deepest breath I possibly could, holding on the air inside me until the last possible moment.

Then I punched forward with my left hand, feeling it smash into her right. I grimaced as I felt the bones in it _splinter_ and _crush _themselves, but it would be fine in five or ten minutes. Pushing forward while Glory Girl was dazed, I kicked up with my left leg, slamming it into her stomach watching her fall to the ground with a tiny flash of satisfaction, which I quickly crushed. While Glory Girl was my _opponent_, Vix was my_friend_. I wasn't going to kick her while she was down.

"Hey," I asked, worry in my voice. "Are you alright?"

She coughed, and flecks of blood and phlegm hit the ground, only to be covered by the rain that poured down, soaking the both of us. "Barely felt it. Come on, let's go let's _go! _I haven't gotten to go all fucking out in _ages!"_

She flew into the air again, and this time I couldn't track her movements. I tried, and all I saw was a black streak that arced all over the sky above the roof, and the falling rain forced me to cover my eyes with my left arm, the hand flopping uselessly where it was, and Glory Girl moved faster and _faster,_ her body barely even a streak, just a thin blur that even my eyes struggled to track. I heard a shriek of laughter as she picked me up, and I flailed for a moment as we flew higher and higher into the air.

"What are you doing?!" I roared, the wind whipping water into my eyes as Glory Girl climbed higher and higher, my eyes coated in a film of tears from the wind that I couldn't block.

She grinned at me, red teeth flashing, and replied. "Mother_fucking winning!"_

The wind smashed and crashed into me, until suddenly, we stopped. I looked around, barely able to see, and I didn't even have time to rub my eyes as Glory Girl started her descent.

Oh.

Oh _fuck._

The wind whipped past us again, and it went faster and faster and suddenly, I could _see _again, my eyes adjusting to the insane wind and water, and the school was closing in fast.

"Glory Girl! We're going to crash!"

Glory Girl only laughed in response, as we picked up more and more speed, the school closing in faster and faster. "Fucking _yeah_ we are! Come on Frankenstein, let's see _who can take the fucking fall!_"

The roof closed in, and I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth.

The fall _hurt. _I was surprised for a second as I opened my eyes, coughing, seeing nothing but dust and smoke, and blood welled up past my lips, making me spit it out to the side. I staggered to my feet, and felt my injuries begin to stitch themselves back up: three broken ribs, fractured shin, a dislocated arm, and a broken forearm slowly repairing themselves. Blood fell from my face, covering one of my eyes, and I shifted awkwardly, wiping the blood off my face onto a shoulder. I looked over, and in the crater where a generator used to be, her arms slung over the edge of where there _should _have been a chainlink fence, was Vix. She gasped for air, and gave me a wicked grin as cuts from her forehead dripped red.

"Fucking. _Mythic._"

I staggered to my feet, limping over to her, falling in front of her. More information flowed to my synapses as it was fixed – burns, lower back, crossing over to the upper half of my chest, cuts all over, hissing as they stitched themselves back together. I would be fine, I had enough healing and pain tolerance. But Vix... her clothes were ripped to shreds, and everywhere there were rips, there was blood and burns. Her skin was _smoking_, and I looked at her in horror, ignoring my own injuries as I put my right hand on her shoulder, seeing her wince in pain at the touch. "Vix, are you okay?!"

Vix looked at me, and a grin slowly grew on her face. "Taylor. I just flew _a hundred feet_ in the fucking air straight down, and blew up a goddamn generator, taking the fucking fence and half the _roof_ with me!"

She grabbed onto my shoulders, ignoring the burns on her hands, and looked me dead in the eye. "I. Am fucking. **Awesome.**"

A voice that was almost _entirely_ disapproval answered, and Vix and I both froze.

"...Ly in _trouble_. Vix, you _promised! _I just wanted you to check up on Taylor, make sure she was alright!"

Vix scoffed, gently pushing me over so I could rest on the generator as she staggered to her feet. "She's fucking great. Amazing. Tip top shape."

"_Victoria, _I just wanted you to see if she was fitting in well! Not... not _this!"_ The girl sound frustrated and tired. But there was a hint of acceptance in her voice, like she was used to this sort of thing, like it happened all the time.

"...This?" I asked, staggering to my feet, my eyes sharpening and focusing as I did so, I recoiled in horror. The roof was wrecked. An enormous crater in the middle almost revealed the floor directly below, and the chainlink fences were gone, shattered in half by the explosion of the generator. Black electric marks covered the ground, jagged edges coming away from the generator; well, the smoking remnants of the generator.

"Oh. That." I half murmured to myself, the horror of realizing that I had _helped destroy a rooftop _still settling in.

"...Honestly Vix, every _single _time! I asked you for a simple favor, and you attacked that poor girl! Do you even _think _before you do things?!"

"Hey," Vix growled, her voice rough and low, as she butted heads with the shorter girl with brown hair. "It was fun. Tell her it was fun Taylor!"

I thought. I thought about the burning and the broken bones. I thought about Glory Girl's incredible strength and willful defiance. I thought of _Vix's _shrieking laugh.

"...Yeah. It was fun."

Vix smiled at me, so big and bright that I flushed with color and turned away, not feeling deserving of such honest emotion.

"Anyways Ames, fix us up. We've got class."

"Your clothes are in _shreds!_"

Vix shrugged, her burnt shoulders hissing as the rain hit them. "It's fine, I've got some in my locker."

The girl groaned, and turned with an apologetic smile. "I'm so sorry Taylor, I didn't mean for this to happen, I honestly just wanted her to check up on you!"

"Erm, excuse me," I asked, looking with questioning eyes at the girl. "But who are you, exactly?"

Vix snorted, muttering to the girl. "Can't even introduce yourself, and you tell me that _I'm-"_

"Shut _up_ Vix. You're in enough trouble as it is." She gave me a weary smile and extended her hand. "I'm Amy. Amy Dallon. You know, Panacea? The 'great Healer' and all that? That's me."

I nodded, swallowing as I shook her hand, and her face looked confused for a moment before she nodded in understanding before letting go. "I fixed you up a bit. Not much, just helped your 'normal'," She placed the air quotes in the air with her fingers, while Vix groaned, "biology along. Nothing big."

I smiled at her gratefully, before moving towards the now _missing_ building that had housed the stairs. "Alright, let's go to class then."

"Oooooh _no_ young lady," A deep booming voice said, and I looked down, my face turning even whiter in fear. "You and Miss Dallon are in _a lot_ of trouble."

On my first day of high school, I made a friend, fought my friend, and then met the principal. I could just feel how happy my mom would be about all of this.

* * *

**Gestation 2.4**

I shifted nervously in my seat outside the principal's door, embarrassed and insulted that he'd forced the three of us to wait outside like we were elementary schoolers instead of high school students. The hallway in front of the principal's office was a common one, sitting right near the entrance to the school, and the dark blue walls and rows of lockers made me twitchy, knowing that any second the bell could ring, and students could start pouring out.

Vix clicked her tongue. "Goddamn slow spunkjack of a principal we got, huh? Won't even fucking talk to us, waiting for our parents to get here before he deals out his shitty cards, showing us the true shittiness of his terrible deck." She drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, and I watched her, ignoring how my own fingers tapped my knees. Bumbumbum _bum_. Bumbumbum _bum_.

"Victoria please. Stop it, we're in enough trouble as it is." On my other side, Amy was staring at one of the lockers, her right hand tapping her cheek as her left hand twirled a stray strand of long brown hair. "You can't keep doing things like this. You make New Wave look bad, you make me look bad."

The blonde snorted, rolling her eyes. Bumbumbum _bum_. "Yeah cause it's always about you, isn't it? Fucking miracle healer in the building, pleased to grace us with her fucking presence. Fuck off Ames, I don't give a shit." She stopped tapping for a moment, idly stretching the hole in her white longsleeve, watching as skin slowly emerged from below the white. "Look, it's fine alright? It's always fucking fine."

Amy's head _whirled_ towards her sister with a wicked glare. "Fine? _Fine_?! Victoria, it's only fine because dealing with you was alright so long as they got _me_! We don't know if they'll care anymore! You blew up the back up generator and destroyed the roof! Why do you always do these things Victoria?!"

"Vix."

"What? Look, I don't care about your stupid fake na-" Amy started, but suddenly Vix stood up and looked her dead in the eye, growling under her breath.

"My _name_ is Vix, Amy. Call me by my _motherfucking_ name."

Amy stood up, and the two sisters glared at each other with the heat of a furnace. I could almost sense the tension between the two, I could _feel_ the fight that had been building up for so long. Vix's heated glare met Amy's frustrated tired eyes, and I stood up, hesitant but willing to speak up.

"Um, maybe we shouldn't-"

"_Victoria Dallon_, is this how you treat your sister?" The three of us turned at the voice, sharp as a knife and cold as ice. A sharp dressed, tall blonde woman walked down the hall, and beside her my mother looked at me, giving me a little wave. I ducked my head to hide the red of my cheeks as the two women walked toward our group, and glanced at Vix out of the corner of my eye. She was almost shaking with barely contained rage as the other woman drew near, and it dawned on me.

That was Vix's _mother_. That was Brandish, the leader of New Wave. The woman who had fought with the Tigers a hundred times, and was a lawyer on her own time. She had given interviews when her entire family had agreed to reveal their identities, to start a new trend of capes.

But it had all come crashing down when Flashbang had been killed in an all-out brawl with several gangs scrambling to maintain territory in the aftermath of Legend. New Wave had lost a member, and with that had gone their morale, and any hope of spreading their influence of unmasked capes.

"Ch. Fine." Vix backed off, tossing her blonde hair behind her as she sat back down in her seat, crossing her legs as her fingers began the beat once more. Bumbumbum _bum_. Bumbumbum _bum_. Bumbumbum_bum_.

My mom walked over and tousled my hair. "Having fun, kiddo?" I glared at her, my glowing brown eyes meeting her twinkling green, and she winked at me. "Gotta say, when I got in trouble in school, it was for small stuff. Forgot to do my homework, skipped a class or two, you know. Kid things. I'd never," she poked me in the nose, and I jumped, having followed her finger with my eyes. "Gotten in trouble for vandalism. You've outdone yourself this time Taylor," She stretched her back and grinned widely. "At least you made a friend, right?"

Friend? Were me and Vix friends now? What really was friendship anyways – Emma always said it was going to the mall together, laughing about anything, and talking. Was this what a parahuman friendship was? "I beat you up, now we're friends"? That sounded rather strange, but... I did consider Vix a friend. Even if my bones still tingled at the thought of her punch, I still thought that she was _my_ friend.

"...Yeah. At least I made a friend." I smiled to myself. "It was... fun, I guess."

My mom winked at me as she opened the door to the office. "That's what really counts Taylor. Don't forget that, alright?"

Brandish followed after her, but not before pointing at Vix one last time, her eyes glinting dangerously as she spoke. "Don't you _dare_ do anything stupid while I'm in there. I'm covering for _you_ Victoria, so help me god. Just sit there, and be good."

The door shut behind them, and I could hear the hint of a heated discussion. I looked at my lap in shame, hanging my head. My mom had worked so hard to get me into Arcadia, and on my very first day I was probably going to be expelled. Wonderful.

"I hate this," Vix mused as she tapped. Bumbumbum _bum_. "It sucks the back end of a donkey's balls fucking a moose's backside."

Amy gagged, sputtering at Vix's words. She sent the blonde a shocked and offended look, giving her a wicked glare. "Do you always have to be so _crass_, 'Vix'?" She said the name with disgust and distaste, looking at the girl with disapproval. "Honestly, you were never like this before Fl-"

"Shut up."

Two words. Cold, colder then ice. Vix's eyes were like iron, and she tapped faster. Bumbumbum_bum_Bumbumbum_bum_ Bumbumbum_bum_. Amy went on, uncaring of the other girl's words.

"No. You don't get to say that anymore. We're _sisters_ 'Vix', and you're drawing farther and farther away every day! Just tell me what's wrong! Is it because he died? Is that why you've become like... like _this_?!"

Vix growled out the words, her body as still as statue, and the words flew out of her mouth like arrows from a bow. "Shut the _fuck_ up Ames."

"No! _You_ shut the fuck up!" The brunette stood up, walking over and glaring at Vix as the girl tapped her seat faster and faster. "You can't do this to me! We were so close, you can't just break that apart because you want to be tough for hi-"

Vix _burst_ out of the chair, and Amy took a step back as the taller girl stood in front of her, shaking in rage and anger, her eyes like two pieces of glass imbedded in a sword hilt. "Fuck _you_! I bet you'd care if he was your _real_ dad-"

Dead silence. I could almost hear the buzzing of bugs around the area, as an aura of emptiness surrounded the two. Amy turned away.

"Amy, I didn't mean it, _please_..."

"No." The word almost fell from the shorter girl's mouth, choked in emotion and shock. "You obviously _did_."

The two stood in front of me, ripped black clothes and blonde hair on one side, and a white sundress with brown hair on the other. Wet drops hit the ground, and I wasn't sure from which one.

"Don't talk to me for a while, okay? I... I... I just need some time. To process what you said."

The words were the only sound in the empty hall, and Vix looked horrified and shocked at Amy's words, like they'd crushed her under a hundred tons of concrete.

"Ames, I really didn't-"

"No. You don't get to call me 'Ames'. You're _Vix_ and I'm _Amy_, from now on. Got it?"

Vix struggled with something inside herself, emotion pouring over her face for a moment before she drooped with a sigh. "...Yeah. I got it."

Amy wiped imaginary dust off her dress, before beginning to walk away. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Taylor,_Vix_, I have class. I'm not part of your _family_, so I don't have to take the fall with you."

Vix fell into her chair, her head facing towards the ground. "Yeah. Right."

Amy walked away, the tip tapping of her feet the only sound in the empty hallway as Vix and I sat there, waiting for the verdict. We sat in silence, and even if I had _wanted_ to say something, what could I possibly have said?

I'm sorry you alienated your sister? I'm sorry that your dad's death messed you up? There was nothing I could say to Vix to make her feel better, and I was almost grateful for the buzzing of my phone.

_teachrar in dis class is fukken riddick lets me play with my phone for no reason. Sup wit u_

I glared at my phone's screen. Emma's insistence on terrible typing was frustrating at the best of times,_especially_ when she did it in a way that meant I could never know when she was messing with me.

_Outside the Principal's Office. Got in a fight with Glory Girl._

Emma didn't respond for almost a minute, and I shifted nervously.

_Did u win?_

I wasn't honestly sure, and I frowned at my phone.

_Draw. Panacea had to fix us both up._

_Hahaha das my gurl right there! nobody fucks with scarssssss_

I held back a small laugh at Emma's text, doubting that Vix would appreciate my amusement when her sister had just stormed off.

The principal jerked his head out, looking at me. "Hebert, I'm going to pretend I didn't see that." I hurriedly put away my phone, looking at him with what I hoped was a straight face, and it must have not been, because he shuddered. Red didn't look very good on skin as pale as mine. "You can go. Dallon? Get in my office."

Vix hopped out of her seat, waving a hand over her shoulder as she entered the door. "Later Taylor. Don't let anyone fuck with you, alright?"

"...Yeah." I said quietly, watching the door shut. I was worried for Vix. I wanted to stay, make sure she was alright. I glanced at the clock, and almost sagged in relief. It was almost the end of the day, meaning that I could just go to the last hour of class, and then immediately go meet up with Emma. Thank god.

I gathered my things, and headed for my last period.

* * *

**Gestation 2.5**

Classes ended with barely a whisper. It was more like a slow stop than a fast crash, but still I sagged with relief, as I began to head for the entrance. I wondered about what had happened today – would Vix be alright? She was clearly in trouble, but I had no idea how much. It depended less on what I thought and did, and more on what _she_ thought and did now. I didn't know enough about Vix to know how she thought, only what she did.

I left the building quickly, hoping to beat the rush of students, avoid questions and looks about my scars, my skin, and my career as a rogue. I hated talking about things like that, to people I didn't know, who didn't know _what_ it felt like.

I was Frankenstein. Attacks were common – I'd been tortured by Bonesaw and walked free, so most capes assumed I could take a few punches. Fortunately, the Wards or Protectorate usually intercepted them, but every now and then one got through the safety net. My ribs still ached sometimes when I thought of Hookwolf.

It didn't matter that I wasn't a fan of fighting. It never mattered what I thought when it came to my cape life. My mom and my dad, they couldn't help me out there.

"Taylor, you leaving so soon?"

I turned, blinking in surprise at my name. Red hair and a wide grin tossed a coin in the air, and my eyes followed it as it went up, spinning around, heads to tails and tails to heads moving, before he grabbed it in midair.

Tails.

"...Yeah. I'm not feeling very well." I said quietly, picking a point directly above his right eyebrow to stare at. "I'm just going to go home, and go to bed early."

He laughed as he caught up with me, flipping his coin in the air again. "Bullshit. You don't fight Glory Girl and walk away, and then expect me to believe you feel _sick_."

I gave him a hard look, and he winked at me again. My power slipped past my control for a moment, trying to brush his mind before I reeled it back in. I refused to use my abilities. I never wanted anything as terrifying as what had happened after Bonesaw's torture to happen to me again.

"No. You're right. I just don't want to go to Fugly Bob's, to meet with a bunch of people I don't know, and talk about _her_. Go away, Dennis. I'm not your toy to show off to your friends."

I picked up the pace, and was annoyed when Dennis easily kept stride with me, and we walked in unison as I threw him a vicious glare, and he smiled like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

"No, you're right. You're not a toy, you're a _cape_. And even capes should relax once in a while. Look," He scratched the back of his head as I took a turn, heading up towards the Docks to cut over to Boardwalk, "Give it ten minutes, alright? That's all I want at Fugly Bob's; ten minutes of your undivided attention. I'll pay for your meal, even. Sound fair?"

I hesitated, twirling a stray strand of hair in my fingers, stopping for a moment. The docks moved around us, the sounds of the _clink clank_ of the machinery and the sea salt air hit me as I watched a dockworker heft an enormous box, his muscles straining from the effort, dropping it onto the back of a truck with a gasp.

"...Fine. I'll be there at six."

Dennis grinned, turning around and jogging off. "Alright then, I'll see you there! You won't regret it, promise!"

I was already regretting it. Dennis and his friends were people I didn't know, and Emma wouldn't be there to convince me to be less off-putting and more I really just... go? I couldn't think straight with so little knowledge of who was going to be there, and the sounds of the docks were making me ill at ease. They reminded me of something, and I mused while I cut onto the Boardwalk.

Capes had started going for me when I was twelve. I'd had a constant detail from the Wards for a bit, and I remembered one of them teaching me how to punch. How to kick. It had been an interesting experience for me as a child: the Wards were people I'd heard about from Emma in awe, and I had met and spoken to them, and learned from them even.

The Wards left after several months, and then I was attacked. A ring of gang members had surrounded me when I was thirteen, and then fled when their knives couldn't break my skin. It had been terrifying at first, until I'd realized that it was doing nothing to me. It was _glancing_ off of my skin, bouncing this way and that.

I'd giggled.

They'd ran. Called me a monster. Abomination. I'd grown used to those words fast – even if Emma had been adamant about being my friend, others had been... less so. They'd left with such speed that you'd think I'd told them I was there to kill their mothers. It had been a sad time for me. For Taylor Hebert, that is.

Frankenstein... That came later. It had started out as a casual nickname on Parahumans Online, apparently; something to call Bonesaw's first well known victim, something quick and easy for them to refer to me by. It had caught on. _Fast_. The media had picked up Frankenstein quickly, and when my parents had protested, they argued that it made sense; I was Bonesaw's 'monster', so didn't Frankenstein work just fine?

If there was one thing I hated: less than Bonesaw, of course, because I doubted anything could equal my hatred for her; but still _hated_, it would be the press. The media. The so-called 'cape reporters' who had badgered me when I entered middle school, and who I was sure would be badgering me when I finally got home, asking me to talk about the fight with Glory Girl, how I felt about Vix, and why we fought in the first place.

As I stared off the edge of the Docks, looking at the water so deep of a blue it was like black, watching it lap on the concrete shores of the Bay, my lips curved into a smile. Because they didn't _know_.

I'd checked the Parahumans wiki when I was thirteen or so – there was plenty of information on Frankenstein. My entire background, where I lived, what I did, the fights I'd been in with other capes: it was all immediately available on the wiki.

But they had _nothing_ on the 'telepath'. They said it was a myth, that the scream was made up by the Protectorate. It was a well contested point on both the forums and the wiki; was the telepath **real**? After all, telepathy couldn't be real. That would be ridiculous, it was impossible. But still, an enormous number of Parahumans had reported hearing the scream, and not everyone could be lying, could they?

I left the Docks quickly, leaving my thoughts of the past behind with me. It couldn't possibly be of use to me where I was going; apart from giggling with a friend.

_Hey. Where are you?_

I waited for a moment as I walked through the Docks, taking a left and then a right, nodding cordially to the men working there.

_ winslow. Place is like a gdamn snoozefest affer skool its so dulllll_

_Alright. I'm going to swing by._

There was a silence from Emma that lasted for a while. I had already pulled up the directions from the Docks to Winslow on my phone, and I was on the bus headed there before she responded.

_U shore? Itd totes help my hostile takeover if u did but if yu really dont want 2 idgaf_

_Yeah. I'll be there in twenty._

I stared out the bus window, watching the stormy weather turn into clear skies as the bus thrummed through the Docks, heading to Winslow. It was a quiet, silent affair for me. It had been a quiet affair when I had told Emma I'd gotten into Arcadia.

She hadn't made the cut. I'd tried to apologize, and tell her I'd go to Winslow, but she just smiled at me.

"Taylor," She'd said, flicking a stray strand of hair out of her eyes, "It's _fine_. It would have been great going to school with you, but we'll manage, right? Besides, Arcadia is where all the Wards and a ton of parahumans go, right? It'd be good for you. You'd meet new people, and feel better around them. So just go! We'll still hang out!" She grinned at me, and patted me on the top of the head, even though I had a good inch on her. "Don't worry Scars, everything will turn out absolutely perfect!"

Emma was too good of a friend for the likes of me. She was kind, sensitive, always thinking of others. I was an introverted loner and she was the outgoing girl. She'd modeled before, and dragged me to her shoots. She found it amusing how she got _less_ attention when I was around, and she insisted it was because I was prettier. Emma was nice like that.

The bus stopped a few blocks from Winslow, and I got off, deciding to walk. The streets were still wet from the recent rain, and metal glinted around me, shining as the light hit the wet spots on lamp posts and link fences.

As I approached Winslow, I held up a hand, waving to a redheaded curvy girl who was bouncing up and down on the steps, as a snickering dark skinned girl next to her leaned casually against the rails next to her. Waving her arms wildly, she was practically jumping on the steps as I walked up, and she bolted to me the instant I was a few feet away.

"Scaaaaaars you totally came!" She grinned at me with perfect teeth and a winning smile, and I gave her a smaller smile back. Emma always knew how to make me feel better. She slung an arm around me and stuck her tongue out at the dark skinned girl. "Seeee Sophia! I told you I _totally knew_ Scars! I am deeply offended – no, _wounded_ catastrophically by your disbelief!" She began to lean against me, fluttering her eyelashes. "Scars! I'm... I'm dying! Catch me if I fall!"

I rolled my eyes, ducking out from underneath her arm. "Emma, you're not dying. If you really want an acting career, why not just ask your mom? I'm sure she could find you a few jobs."

Emma shook her head, tossing her red hair over one shoulder. "Never! The average person wouldn't be able to understand the beauty of my abilities! Truly, it is a shame," She wiped away a tear that wasn't there, making a choking noise as she did so, "And... And I _weep_ for their loss."

Sighing at Emma's antics, I walked over to the taller black haired girl, extending a hand. "Hi. I'm Taylor."

She grinned at me, grabbing my hand and shaking it with a firm grip. "Yeah, I know. Pretty sure most of Brockton knows – didn't Circus try and fight you when she was starting out as a mercenary?"

I grimaced at the memory. "Yes. She did. The Wards took care of her, but they let me handcuff her."

The girl nodded, and her hair bounced with her head. "Sounds like fun. I'm Sophia, by the way. Sophia Hess."

I didn't recognize the name, but I could _feel_ Emma's "I am your best friend and you will do as I will" stare piercing into my back. I smiled at Sophia, and she grinned back. "Sorry about her," I said, pointing a finger over my shoulder at my best friend. "I know she can be a bit of handful, so will you keep her in check when I'm not here?"

"Sure," The dark skinned girl said, holding back a snicker. "She keeps talking about how she's going to make the school bow before her because it would be, and I quote, 'Literally the greatest accomplishment of my life. I want to be the pretty princess of Winslow.'"

"She does that a lot. You can ignore it."

"I try, but she keeps talking about it. It gets in your head after oh, the seventh or eighth time, ya know?"

As we both nodded sagely, Emma burst in between us, giving me a glare as she shook her head furiously.

"Scaaaaaaaaaars enough about my glorious plan! I know that it's totally going to work, so you will _never dissuade me from my path._ It is the most noble cause ever. Besides, nothing really happened today besides meeting Sophia so-"

"She stood up on the cafeteria table during lunch and yelled "I demand all of you _bow before your new princess._"

"-You should tell me about your day!" She said, giving Sophia a glare. "Because mine was boring. Nothing happened. At all."

I smiled at the two, and began talking.

"Well, nothing really happened until lunch, when..."

* * *

**Gestation 2.6**

I talked with Sophia and Emma for a while, just sort of experiencing what the world could offer me. I could almost taste the ash in my mouth as the time neared, and I stood.

"...I should go."

"Whaaaat?" Emma looked at me, tilting her head quizzically. "Why? Scaaaaars you and I both know you are just going to go home and _read for hours_. Do not do this thing that you plan on doing, it is a terrible idea! Stay here! Look," She rustled through her bag, pulling out a large bag of chips. "I have delicious snacks! Even food is unnecessary when you are with I, Emma Barnes!"

"As fun as that sounds Emma," I said, grinning slightly at the redhead, "I can't. I promised someone I'd meet them at Fugly Bob's."

Sophia stiffened for a moment, giving me a guarded look that I pointedly ignored, waving to Emma over my shoulder. "I'll text you, alright? You know you can reach me anytime."

As I walked off, I heard Emma's frustrated, muttered words of "It's not the _same_," and my heart clenched for a moment. Was it really all right, leaving Emma with Sophia as I went to meet with Dennis and his friends? I didn't know them. I knew nothing about them, only that Dennis wanted ten minutes of my time to meet and speak to them. But it could be fun, couldn't it?

...Maybe Vix would be there.

Hardening my resolve, I got on yet another bus, this one heading in the direction of Fugly Bob's. As I stared out the window on the way back, seeing clear skies and concrete, I wondered once more about why Legend had arrived. Did it have something to do with my incident? I was never very foolish; there _were_ no telepathic parahumans. It was impossible, an illogical contradiction of the world. My mere existence was an aberration, a thing that was never supposed to exist.

I was grateful and hated Bonesaw for what she'd done to me. The world believed that I was Frankenstein, a cape with incredible healing abilities who was stronger and faster than most. Not the telepath who had screamed for help when they triggered.

But, would Dennis and his friends be able to see me for _me_? Not Frankenstein. Not the telepath. But Taylor Hebert, the girl?

Would they think of the girl who had fought with Glory Girl, or the pale skinned girl covered in scars? Or would they be able to see past it all, and maybe look at me as _me_?

My phone buzzed. As it jarred me out of my thoughts for the millionth time today, I opened it, already knowing who it was.

_Scars idgaf where u went but srsly. Make some fronds at ur skool k? id like 2 meet my besties other frends not just intro her 2 mien! Pls stahp bein anti n open up. Scars pls_

I smiled quietly to myself. Even though I'd left her, Emma always made me feel better. No matter what. She was good at stuff like that, it was her area of expertise. I could be a moody loner if I wished, but I would be _her_ moody loner. Pulling the jacket Emma had loaned me closer around my shoulders, I decided to look over my body one last time before meeting with Dennis' friends.

Ribs were done, burns were gone. Bones were fixed, but my left hand tingled slightly anyways – breaking my hands with punches usually did something weird to them for a few days after. I frowned, glaring at my left hand.

It twitched in response.

It looked like Amy had fixed my body up. I didn't feel any worse than I usually did, and even the pain that always throbbed in the back of my mind had lessened up a bit. I hadn't even thought that was possible, and as I wondered what she'd done, the bus was already where I wanted to be.

Getting out, I looked around the area near Fugly Bob's. Before Legend's arrival, it had been a carved out section of the Docks layered in waste and filth, the arrogant denizens saying that it was _their_ filth, so what did it matter? Legend had cleaned that up quick, and Fugly Bob's area had turned into a sort of a miniature downtown, a street lined with restaurants and a few throwaway stores that nobody who wasn't local went to.

As I walked over, I did a double take as I passed by a salad store, advertising that it was better to eat green. Honestly, who in the Docks actually ate green? It was the _Docks_. The majority of people who worked here were six foot and up, heavily muscled men who lifted boxes and moved shipments all day, then went to a steakhouse or a bar afterward. I'd never met a Dockworker that my dad knew who would ever be caught dead eating a salad.

When I was much smaller, and dad had taken me to the Union one day, one of the Dockworkers had given me some of his lunch – the green bits. He'd said it was 'unmanly' to eat that, even if his wife packed it in. I'd happily gobbled it up, and he'd patted my head, saying that I was a good girl. He came over every now and then to talk with dad; apparently he was the president of the Union.

He was a good man, my dad said. Honest, hardworking, and loyal.

Fugly Bob's was near now, close enough that I could see the rotted sign. Even though Bob, the owner, had gotten plenty of new customers, he refused to replace that sign. Apparently it gave the place character. The building wasn't dilapidated like it had been before, but it wasn't pristine either. Wood that had once been painted red and white was sighing with age, and the building almost rocked back and forth on the Bay, whimsically swaying in an unseen wind. Fugly Bob's was a staple of the Bay; everyone had eaten there at some point. _Everyone_. Villains, heroes, anyone who had a face and wanted the greasiest burger in the city went to Bob's.

I ran my fingers over the door, fingering the individual creases in the wood. It was rough and coarse, and I tapped it a few times, feeling the wood thrum under my hand as I did so.

Taptaptap _tap_. For luck.

I opened the door with a deep breath, letting the scent of cooking meat and the murmur of noise wash over me. A song, scratchy over the speakers, played in the background, and I faintly recognized the song,, the smooth sound of trumpets intermixing with the lyrics.

"_These vagabond shoes, they are longing to stray..."_

I hummed along with the song as I walked through the diner, looking at old, blackened wood and red seats. I nervously glanced around the diner, searching for the people I was supposed to meet. Would they like me? Dennis seemed to like me, or at least, he seemed to think I was _interesting_, but that wasn't the same as liking me. Everyone thought I was interesting, I was the outed cape Frankenstein. Of course I was interesting; New Wave had fallen out of favor and Amy was an international _celebrity_. I was the quiet girl who smiled at Dockworkers and paid extra cab fare when I wanted to take a slow trip.

People liked having a local cape. It was like having a mascot: especially an outed one. Bragging rights to other cities: _our_ girl doesn't cheat on tests. She's polite. She knows people. I've spoken to her parents before, good people, nice, wonderful.

Idle pleasantries are such a loathsome task. Waste of time, in my humble opinion. "Hello", "How are you", and "How was your day" are all such simple things but they taste like ash in my mouth when I say them to anyone who isn't Emma or my parents. Pretending I care about their opinions and feelings for no other reason than to make them feel good: they spoke to Frankenstein, and she's such a wonderful, pleasant girl.

"_My little town blues..."_

My mind struggled to place the song. What were the words that came after it – and did it my way? No, that would be ridiculous. The scratching trumpets and violin intermixed in my head as I thought, frustrated over not knowing the title.

I glanced around the diner again, looking for anything that showed where Dennis and his friends were, and found Bob's... lacking. It was a pleasant place, filled with people and the wash of noise and good music, but it felt surreal to me, like a way to avoid reality. I refused to avoid reality – I was Frankenstein, I was something Bonesaw made, and I hated her.

"Strangers in the night..." I whispered, still unable to place the song on the speakers. I had already made up my mind, because it was obvious what had happened – Dennis was a no show. Expected, really. I was Taylor Hebert at school, but out of it I was Frankenstein. I sagged with some sort of emotion – relief? Disappointment? And made to exit the building.

"Taylor! Over here!"

I turned, and saw a head of red hair waving wildly at me. My heart sank as I realized that Dennis and his friends had not left, and were in fact here, but I gave him a smile and headed over their way.  
"_I am about to make a brand new start of it, right there in old New York.."_

* * *

**Gestation 2.7**

I sat down in the booth, next to a girl with brown hair tied into pigtails. She gave me a warm, bright smile, and I hesitantly returned it, wondering curiously if she was someone's little sister – she looked to be about ten or eleven, why would she be friends with a high school student? But looking around the table, nobody caught my eye as her definite elder.

It was an... eclectic group, to say the least. A mixture of people, older and younger then me, some taller, and some shorter, but all of them seemed like they were friends. People who knew each other fairly well, which was bizarre; I could have sworn that the tall, dark skinned boy was a football player at Arcadia, someone who I sincerely doubted would be caught dead hanging with the class clown.

"...Dennis, are these your friends?" I asked in a quizzical tone, giving him a look. The group surrounding me knew each other well; far too well for him to expect me to integrate so simply into their camaraderie. I slumped in my seat, my fingers brushing the tablecloth nervously. It had appeared that I was right – they didn't want to get to know me, so much as they did Frankenstein.

I could just leave if I got sick of it.

"...Well, Taylor, I haven't exactly been..." He paused, looking for a word. I could almost see the gears turning in his head, searching for something to say that wouldn't offend me, and found the contents lacking. "Honest. I blatantly lied to get you here."

I stood up with a smile. Dennis flinched.

Honestly, I wasn't surprised that he'd lied. I wasn't a person to some people; I was a _commodity_. A way to say that they knew me, and that made them better than others. "Thanks for answering honestly then, Dennis." I got up and made to walk away, but Dennis' quiet words caught my ears, and I scowled.

"You promised me ten minutes."

I had promised him ten minutes. I never broke promises, it would make it too easy to break other ones. If I broke one, then what was breaking another? And another? Until…

What if I broke the promise I'd made to my mom? Used my powers and gone into someone's head again. I was worried I wouldn't be able to _stop_, and I'd have already broken the promise, so I could break it again.

And again. And again.

I sat back down next to the younger girl with a scowl on my face. While I doubted Dennis knew of my promises; to my mother and to myself, it still frustrated me that I had to give him ten minutes, despite his lies.

He gave me a smile in return, like I wasn't glaring at him at all. However, the boy sitting next to him, with a strong jaw and striking eyes, frowned at him as well.

"Dennis, I'd thought we'd agreed that lying to her would end badly." His voice was quiet, but it carried an impact. He had the sort of inner strength that I could only dream of having, and it resonated in his words.

Dennis rolled his eyes, giving the boy next to him a casual grin. "Yeah, I'm sure that if I'd left when she'd told me to fuck off she would be here right now, Dean. No 'thank you for doing my job Dennis'? No 'I wish I was as attractive and good at talking to people as _you_"?"

He gave me a hopeless shrug and sighed a mock sigh, shaking his head sadly at the girl next to me. "No respect, right Missy? Can't believe this."

She giggled a little bit, smiling at him, but her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I dunno Dennis, I recall you _promising_ you wouldn't 'misguide, mislead, or otherwise cajole' Taylor into meeting us! And the first thing you do is admit that you did _all_ of those things to her!" She looked at me, grabbing my pale hand with her tanned one. "I'm sorry that Dennis is such a jerk, but seriously; just stay for a bit, okay? I promise you, you won't regret it."

Yes, tiny girl. I am sure that someone younger then me can guarantee my enjoyment of a dinner with a bunch of people despite Emma's absence.

Missy looked around the table, and then blinked. "Hey, where's -"

"Didn't come." someone said, and I looked at them, vaguely recognizing the brown hair and steely eyes as he shrugged. His voice was stern and solid as a rock, but his body was athletic, and I could vaguely see the outline of muscle on his arms in the dim lights of the diner. "I made the call."

The smaller girl glared at him, and he shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. I felt a thrill of amusement as someone who must have been about six feet tall couldn't withstand a look from a girl under five. "How can she feel welcome if we don't even invite her to events like this! Look, I know she's done some... _shady_ things, but-"

"It was **my** call, Missy." He responded, his voice tired. "I didn't want her here, not near someone who might get touchy about the sort of thing she used to do. Sorry, alright?"

Missy nodded, a bit reluctantly, and he smiled at me. "Don't mind her, she's just a bit sulky. It's past her bedtime."

She jolted up immediately, and I could almost see her stamping her feet like Emma did, pouting at the other boy. "Rory, it is _not_ past my bedtime!"

"Sure kiddo, sure."

"Agh! You always do this around new people! Do you know how _embarrassing_ it is?! I've been part of this for longer then Dennis, but you still-"

"Don't worry Missy," a voice drawled, and I turned, seeing a lithe boy with brown hair so curly that it almost bounced, and I was a bit _jealous_. "I've been here just as long as you. We can be old timers together, talk about how much better it was in the days of the war."

He was fairly pretty, probably far prettier then me, but he had an air of arrogance about it. I shifted in my seat again, wishing that the food would come, so I could talk about something other than me.

"Well, that's alright then. You're much better then _Rory_ when we go out, to say the least," She responded with a grin, and he smiled back.

"How could he be better then me? He barely has an attack! That's not better!" Rory snapped back, giving the boy a glare, and he just stuck up his nose, looking like royalty for anyone who could see.

"Clearly my not-attack is far superior in Missy's eyes then your boring little tricks," He said, giving Missy a wink, and I could hear her giggle. "We're even the favorites, because we don't break everything."

"Don't break... what are you **talking** about?! You two fall asleep all the time! On patrol! It's ridiculous that ..." He took a deep breath. "Ugh. Sorry about that," he said, giving me a smile. "I get a little... worked up, when they go at me."

"It's because he doesn't like being double-teamed," The pretty boy said with a wink, flicking a stray strand of hair out of his eyes.

"_Please_ don't be vulgar. Please."

I had sat quietly for long enough, and so I finally spoke up. "What's all this about? You all know each other, but none of you seem the type to be friends. Why was I invited here?"

Rory sighed, stretching his back. "Alright. Look, I know this is going to sound bad, but... we're the Wards."

I stood up.

"You still have five minutes."

I didn't want to stay any longer, not with the Wards. The last time the Wards had guarded me had also been the last time my mother had informed the Protectorate that I had no intention of joining them. I didn't care if it was politics or not, you don't leave an eleven year old girl open to attack because she isn't joining your damn superhero group.

But it was a promise. I wouldn't break my promise. I turned around, tapping my foot and glaring. "So? This isn't an invitation to enjoy some conversation, this is a recruitment. Again. This is what, your eighth attempt? Considering that half of those attempts were on a ten year old, and none of them worked, why would this one? Because I'm older, wiser?."

"Look, I'm _sorry_ about that. I apologized to your mom often enough after attacks."

I looked at him, closer then before, and my eyes widened. I'd seen that jawline often enough, and I'd seen those muscles before – in red. It was Triumph.

Triumph had become a close confidant of mine when I was ten; he was the most common member of the Wards picked to guard me, because his power wasn't too destructive, and he could relate to my ability to heal. He'd taught me a bit about fighting, how to throw a punch, and his words had stuck with me – I'd just used them today, when I'd punched Vix's hand.

"...Don't... don't try to... I..."

I didn't want to be here anymore. Not around Triumph, who knew more about my trigger event and what Bonesaw had done to me then practically anyone, not around the Wards in general.

"Taylor, just listen, alright? It's a new offer this time. Join us, and we can _help_ you. Not train you, not  
protect you, but help you."

"_Come with me, let's fly, let's fly..."_ said the singer over the radio, his smooth vocals washing over me. I shifted as Rory's – as Triumph's eyes pierced me, and I felt nervous.

Triumph had stopped treating me as Frankenstein after our first meeting. He had treated me as a person for as long as he had known me, and he had given me the same gaze when I'd first confessed to him about waking up in the cabin. With nobody there, just me, my blood, and _Bonesaw_.

"Join the Wards, Taylor. I promise you, you won't regret it."

I looked at Rory, at Missy, at Dennis, Dean, and at the pretty boy who almost lounged in the booth. Missy gave me an encouraging smile, Dennis gave me a wink, and Dean smiled at me invitingly. The pretty boy's face was blank.

I couldn't take it. Seeing Triumph after so long, hearing his voice again, and all these people – it was too much. My mind reached out, and thoughts washed over me, so fast and furious that I couldn't read them, before I _slammed_ the door shut, and it was clear again.

I stared at all of them for another moment, shaking slightly. Then I ran.

* * *

**Gestation 2.8**

I ran for what seemed like hours. My legs moved faster and faster, away from the diner, away from the words that still echoed in my head.

Triumph had been there, and he had offered me something that seemed so _inviting_. Why would I turn it down? It would be so easy to accept it. I sped up again, the world a blur around me, only the sound of my breath and the wind as company. It would have been simpler to accept the offer, to put all of this behind me and join the Wards.

But I would not. If I joined the Wards, maybe I would be happy, or maybe I would lure Bonesaw back to Brockton. And I refused to put others in danger in order to protect myself. It was against my morals, my principles, and all that I claimed to stand for.

I slowed to a jog, feeling far enough away from Fugly Bob's, from the music and the Wards to think I was safe again. Although safety was sort of impossible, I mused as I looked around the area.

I had run in a bad direction. I had ran from the safety of the Docks to the Tigers territory. I supposed I would have paled if my skin wasn't already so empty of color.. The Tigers were dangerous, the most dangerous – and only – gang in Brockton Bay.

After Legend's crackdown on crime, several of the major gangs in Brockton had a meeting. It was quiet, very private, but most of the upper leaders of the gangs had attended. It wasn't a pact they were making though; they were agreeing to a _merger_. In an apparently cordial business transaction, three or four gangs had merged into one enormous gang. The Tigers. With big names like Lung and The Hanged Man leading the pack, they attracted the majority of villains; they had the power and the strength to back up their attacks, and they paid well.

Extraordinarily well. I didn't know how they managed to stay afloat with the ludicrous amounts of money they spent; it was on one of their raids that people had seen Faultline's crew working _together_ with other mercenaries. Expensive ones, at that.

I looked around nervously, seeing skyscrapers and concrete streets everywhere I looked. It was an industrial area of the city, but it wasn't a nice part. People here walked fast with their heads down, not wanting to see what was going on around them, ignoring what happened inside the alleyways and for their own benefit. It had been a bit scary, to be honest, the first time I'd went in their territory. So many people, and none of them would dare look another in the eyes.

But right now, they weren't even looking me in the eyes; they were too busy running away. I looked farther ahead, but I couldn't see anything but black and darkness. Odd, considering how bright it was out.

I hesitated for a moment, then I turned and ran with them. Away from the black tide that enveloped so much space. I was just an ordinary girl, scared of what was going on.

Except... I wasn't. I wasn't ordinary, I was Frankenstein. And people would die if I didn't prevent it, they would be torn apart by whatever they were fleeing. So... wasn't it all right to fight to save them? Letting them die because I was a coward would be wrong, wouldn't it?

I felt torn. I should run with them. I should leave this place, but... Triumph's words had gotten to me, just a bit. I didn't want to join the Wards, but a small part of me always wanted to be a hero. I had powers, even if I refused to use them, and even if I chose not to use them, I could still attack with my body. What Bonesaw had done to me had made me stronger and faster, and if I fought to protect, than was it really fighting?

My resolve hardened, and I walked determinedly towards the darkness that was only a few blocks away. People brushed past me, and I staggered once or twice, before one man grabbed me as he ran.

"What are you doing?! That's... that's _him_ in there! You can't go that way!"

I looked at him, and his eyes were haunted, and he was terrified. I gave him a small smile, putting my pale hand on his as I removed it gently from his shoulder.

"But I have to. That's... that's what a hero... would do, right?"

His eyes told me I was mad, but he ran away with little hesitation. I was ready, and so close to the darkened abyss. That was where I would test my will to protect, to do what my mother had always told me to do.

To fight to protect. Not just to fight, not to win, but to _protect_ something. To protect the city that I lived in.

The black enveloped me like water, and I felt slow and sluggish as I made my way through it, my breath quickening in my lungs, my hearts beating faster. It was empty, and my mind begged to be freed from its leash and _search_, but I refused it. I would keep my mind sealed. It was terrifying, the amount of power I had at my grasp, the ability to _rip_ thoughts from others' heads, to see what they remembered like I had experienced it myself. It was staggering how easy it was for me, and I didn't want to fall down that path.

Just as suddenly as I had entered, I exited the black gas with a gasp, and saw what looked like a scene from an action movie before me.

A tall, broad shouldered boy with a ripped leather jacket and a motorcycle helmet stayed back, gaseous black pouring from him, surrounding everyone there in a circle of black that I couldn't see through. He was slowly backing away, trying to discreetly hide himself in his black gas, as a cartwheeling red blur _slammed_ an enormous hammer into her target, and I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth. A white face with black makeup was barely visible as she snapped her fingers, a tiny flame erupting from them that grew and grew, enveloping her hammer as it hit something. I didn't know what it was, but it _roared_ as the flames covered it, and the red and black wearing cape darted away.

Circus. She'd attacked me when she'd first started out, and her face made me _furious_, but I didn't do anything. She might be an ally in this fight.

Another cape, wearing a brown cloak and black, phased through the flames, shooting a set of crossbows at the burning thing, and I watched as she vanished for a moment, floating through a building that was in the way. I hadn't heard of this cape, but she was _quick_, and the enormous mass of flame roared as it attempted to catch her, before finally beating down the flames, and I quaked in my sneakers, which suddenly felt too small.

Lung. Eight feet tall, covered in silver scales, and with a mass of teeth where his mouth should be _roared_ in indignation as the three capes backed away, before the one in the motorcycle helmet called out. "Browbeat, **now**!"

I watched as another boy ran out, and he was built less like a boy and more like a _brick wall_, his muscles bulging with strength as he lifted both his hands over his head and smashed them down onto Lung's head, bringing the enormous monster down with him.

"What the – Tay-**Frankenstein**, what are you doing here?! You don't get involved in cape fights!"  
I glanced to my left, and saw that the girl in the cloak had come close to me, her head glancing nervously at Lung every now and then, watching as Browbeat's fists slammed into him over and over. She was lithe and had the body of runner, wearing a tight fitting black jumpsuit as she fiddled with her crossbows.

"I... I just came to help," I said, giving her a glare. I didn't know her, and she was already lecturing me? I knew my limits, and Lung wasn't that powerful. "Just tell me what to do!"

She started pacing back and forth, muttering to herself, words that I couldn't catch, before slumping. "But - I… Fine. Look, you're stronger, right? Me and Circus are harassing Lung, and Grue's making sure he can't leave. You help out Browbeat, and..." She looked back at Lung, and Browbeat was still punching him. I was impressed at the amount of strength Browbeat had, he must have been half a foot deep. "Beat that **fucker** into the ground."

I nodded, and ran forward towards Lung, but I was too slow; he was already getting back up, throwing Browbeat into the darkness that the boy in the leather jacket generated. I started backing up, but it was too late: Lung had seen me.

"Ankenine? Oo on' 'igh." He said, his words almost impossible to understand through the teeth that had grown in his mouth in a hideous fashion, and he snorted, flames bursting from his nostrils.

"I do now," I responded, holding up my hands to block his arm as he started to swing, feeling it smash into mine, sending me several feet backwards. The bones in both my forearms were broken, and the longsleeve I had worn was in tatters, and those bits that had remained were stained red. I went back a few more feet, watching Lung as he watched me. I needed time for the bones in my arms to reform, and it looked like the girl in the cloak and Circus were going to give me that; Circus was throwing knife after knife at Lung, and the cloaked girl was shooting as many bolts as she could into his monstrous form, and he let out an all too human roar of pain as the bolts pierced, whirling on them. I sagged a bit in relief, feeling the bones in my arms knit themselves together again, the precious few seconds just what they'd needed to fix themselves up. Lung moved towards Circus, who had substituted her knives for a bow, shooting arrows that appeared out of nowhere with pinpoint precision as the enormous scaled being moved towards her.

The two were the only reason that my arms had healed, and as much as I disliked Circus, I wasn't about to let her die for that. I charged forward again, and my fist reached out, punching Lung in the side. I could feel the jar up my arm as I did, and Lung looked down, leering at me. Then he laughed, a deep, throaty laugh, filled with scratches that I couldn't understand, barely able to escape his lips past all his teeth.

Then, flames burst over me, searing my clothes even as I ran out, frantically beating out the fire once I was out of his range, my mind giving me feedback of all the damage: front below my chest, my upper thighs, side of my face, both of my arms... even as my power healed it, I still saw wisps of white smoke curl upwards as my body put itself back together, flesh fixing itself as I stood there. I was deeply regretting my decision at this point; I was dressed like an ordinary girl, and I couldn't beat Lung with what Bonesaw had done to my body.

Lung was stronger. Lung had skin harder then steel. And Lung was _growing_.

Even as the five of us watched in horror, Lung's skin rippled and pulsated, as his entire body shook with power and he began to chuckle, an agonizing sound that reminded me of scratches on a chalkboard, his legs and arms cracking open to reveal spikes that looked like they could cut through buildings, his shoulders and back broadening, and wings _ripping_ out of his back, bat-like and long, while his ears grew larger and longer, sharpening into knife points. He roared and laughed as we stood there in horror, his body about twelve or thirteen feet tall, and he swerved, wings flapping lazily, dragging him upwards in the air, moving slowly towards where Browbeat and the boy in the motorcycle helmet stood, even as the darkness surged from the boy.

I couldn't help. I wanted to be a hero, and all I'd done was give him more power. He was strong, impossibly, incredibly strong. He could fly, he could fight... was there anything I could do against him?

My mind pressed against its boundaries, and I keenly felt it.

I let it fly.

* * *

**Gestation 2.9**

For the first time in years, my mind roamed, further and farther away from my body, grasping thoughts with almost childlike glee as it encompassed itself in a whirlwind of whispers that I couldn't understand, and my head throbbed as my mind swirled through so many thoughts.

_Faster run faster_

_Work tomorrow can't_

_Each_

_How do I_

_Daughter is_

_Please_

I shut them out, teasing my mind back nearer to me; it couldn't escape this time, I needed my power today. I had never needed it before, managing to go about my day without a single usage of my abilities. But against Lung, what Bonesaw had done to me wouldn't cut it, I needed _more_, and I had it at my disposal.

Lung's lazy flight towards the motorcycle jacket wearing boy and Browbeat was something that I could not allow to continue. I reached out with my mind, searching for Lung, finding him easily.

Then I entered his mind.

Minds were bizarre and fascinating, now that I actually had a chance to think about it. Lung's mind roared as I slipped inside, thrashing about. It wanted to **fight**, and it scarcely needed even a reason before it began. Whether it was for honor, or for his life, Lung's mind relished the thrill of battle, enveloping itself inside that idea. Fear made it strong, and it used the strength it held to fight.

It was sad, in a way. I almost regretted what I was about to do to Lung. But, I had seen his mind, and that had made my decision for me.

Lung had no regrets. He did not regret a single crime, a single death, anything he had caused, he had done for a _reason_, and he knew that. So when his mind said that it would not regret this fight and these deaths, I _tore_ out the piece of his mind that understood the concept of 'flight', removing myself from my power to watch as Lung cried out, his wings suddenly faltering and he fell. He hit the ground with a satisfying crunch, staggering to his feet as he looked at his wings with a confused look on his grotesque features, his neck twisting and pulling itself backwards to stare closely at them.

I entered Lung's mind again, replacing the concept of 'flight' that he was searching for. With a roar, he rose again, and I steeled myself for the next part. It was going to _hurt_.

I slammed Lung with my memories of Bonesaw's torture, of blood and bone and muscle all mixing into one twisted art piece, and Lung screeched in pain, falling back to the ground as the other four stared at him nervously, his body twisting and thriving under 'Bonesaw's' ministrations. I felt my own – and Lung's – skin crawl and bleed as I relived the memory with him, the pain that always sat in the back of my mind raising hell as it _screamed_ that it was there, that it had always been there, waiting for me to release it.

Thousands of tiny knives _raked_ over my body, and I fell to my knees, shaking in pain as I poured more of my own memories into Lung, watching intently through eyes watered with pain as he slowly rose to his feet again, his legs shaking with effort, and he turned towards me this time.

With a gasp, I released the memories, and Lung staggered from the sudden lack of pain, mirroring his reaction when the pain had first hit. I saw the boy in the motorcycle motioning, and the two girls sprinting in different directions while Browbeat surged forward, the form of his fist wobbling as it grew in size, Lung's temporary distraction being taken full advantage of.

Browbeat smashed his fist into Lung's side, and the monster flew with a howl, crashing into the concrete five feet away as Browbeat panted, glaring defiantly at him. The cloaked girl had stopped near me, helping me up.

"Hey," She said, and a voice whispered in the back of my mind. "Are you alright?"

I looked at her, and without meaning to, entered her mind.

_Safe,_ it whispered to me, _Ally not prey not predator_. She looked at me with some sort of emotion I couldn't define; her emotions were _different_ from Lung's, they tasted of the sea and the sky, while Lung tasted of concrete and ash. Lung was tied down to cities and crime, but this girl in the cloak was casually, blissfully free from the expectations of cities.

"I know this isn't a good time but..." She gave me a wicked grin as she pulled me up, twirling a crossbow in her hand. "I'm Shadow Stalker. Big fan. Scuse me will you, I've got some stuff to take care of."

Her body became smoke, fading into the background as she moved quickly towards a red and black blur of motion, Circus' had pulled out at least a dozen knives and was juggling all of them, and she was gesturing at Lung obscenely. The cloaked girl phased into reality for a moment, and several bolts that I hadn't seen her load fired into Lung, who grunted as he stood again, lumbering over towards Circus, who laughed mockingly, the black circles around her eyes the only thing I could see amidst the white make up she had put on her face.

I reached into Lung's mind again, missing the taste of sea and sky as concrete and ash made their presence known again. Lung swiftly rushed towards Circus, raising an enormous clawed hand, but I was the conductor of his movements this time, not him. His arm was a second too slow, and that second was enough for Circus; half a dozen knives swiftly pierced into tiny spaces in his armored flesh, and he roared as I held back a hiss.

I had stolen Lung's mind, and with it, I had gained his pain as well. Exhaustion roamed over my body, and each knife was like fire in my right arm. Circus must have heated the blades with her flames before stabbing Lung. Lung suddenly turned, but I slapped away the urge to move, tripping him up and he fell to the ground.

In a flash, Browbeat and Circus were right there, and hammer and fist smashed into Lung's head almost too fast for me to remove myself from his mind. Lung bellowed in agony as Circus' ridiculous hammer and Browbeat's freakish fist hit him over and over again.

Until his roars slowed to a whimper, then stopped entirely. As a red and black jumpsuit cartwheeled away, and the enormous brick wall slowly became the size of a normal boy, my mind reached out towards Lung again, and I sagged with relief. He was still alive. Badly hurt, but alive.

But they weren't done yet. I watched, horrified, as Shadow Stalker walked over to him slowly, her grin barely visible under her cowl, and pulled out a knife. Straddling herself across Lung's neck, she _stabbed_ downwards, then wrenched up, and I gagged as I looked at what came up.

An eyeball. While Lung and I both had some fairly impressive regenerative capabilities, was that really necessary? It seemed a bit... excessive.

The knife went down again, and I looked away, feeling a bit sick.

"Thanks for the help out there Franky!" I turned, and a scowl overcame my face. In front of me was a set of red and black legs, and I looked down to see the grinning red lips of Circus, her white make up at contrast with her lips and the black outline around her twinkling blue eyes. She flicked her body upwards, adjusting her hat, a classical jester hat, and ruffled my hair. I had forgotten she was so much taller than me.

"Don't call me that Circus. I'm Frankenstein to people who tried to _beat me into the ground._" I would never forgive her for attacking me a week after I'd turned thirteen. Emma thought the story was wonderful, but I hated that I'd had to deal with her, then with Triumph after the Wards had come to arrest her.

"But we just fought together Franky! Can't be enemies with your compatriots! It's totally wrong!" She slung an arm around me, and my scowl grew deeper as she turned, waving over to the boy in the leather jacket. "Oy! Grue! Come thank our friendly neighborhood cape over here!"

The boy walked over to me, black still oozing from his jacket and helmet: which I could now see had a skull emblazoned on the glass. "Thanks." He said, his voice short. "We didn't need the help."

Circus pouted, then looked at me sympathetically. "He's just shy, that's all. Don't worry Franky!"

"Don't call her that," the cloaked girl muttered, phasing in next to Grue, who barely even moved from his position. I eyed her apprehensively, not knowing what to think after seeing what she'd done to Lung. "She's Frankenstein, not Franky. Listen to capes, Circus, even if they're younger than you."

Circus laughed, and it sounded like bells and whistles. I hated that she had such a nice laugh, even as she released me from her arm, cartwheeling across the way to a spot on the other side of Grue. "Don't talk about a girl's age, Shadow Stalker! I'm only a few years your elder, but you make me sound _ancient!_" She huffed, giving Browbeat a pointed look as he lumbered over, much smaller than when I'd seen him earlier. "Honestly, kids these days, am I right?"

"Circus," the boy in yellow and blue said, stretching his arms. "You're not even twenty. Lay off with that, will you?"

She sighed dramatically, shrugging hopelessly. "Well, you can't always -"

Suddenly, her mouth snapped shut, eyes moving upwards. Her voice suddenly tense and filled with worry,  
she asked, "...Grue, can your darkness sense anything moving in it?"

"What? No. Nobody here but us." He said, looking around the area, with broken concrete and buildings that teetered precariously on barely stable structures.

"Fuck. Shit. _Shit_. We have to move."

Circus was already darting across the battlefield, the weapons she'd summoned vanishing into the imaginary space she carried everywhere with her.

"Circus?" Grue said, his voice strained. "What are you -"

"No, don't you _get_ it? We didn't think about this. We didn't think about what would happen if we weren't already away by the time they were prepared to fight Lung. And who do you think is gonna be the first one on the scene?"

Grue was like a statue of obsidian as Circus talked, and then he burst into motion too. "Browbeat. Shadow Stalker. We're leaving. **Now**."

Browbeat grunted, following Grue as Circus looked around nervously. Shadow Stalker paused for a moment, then looked at me.

"You wanna come with?" She said, and I looked at her with confusion. I'd helped out a bit, but mostly in ways they couldn't see. "It'll be fun." She grinned, and extended a hand.

I flinched backwards. Her hand was covered in blood – Lung's blood, from when she had gouged out his eyes, just a few minutes ago. He was down, and it was over, but she had gone for it _anyways_. I quickly shook my head, and her smile slowly faded as she nodded.

"Just be careful," She said as she turned to follow the other three. "**He'll** probably be the first one on the scene."

They fled into the darkness, and within seconds they were out of sight, in a place I couldn't see. I turned to walk through the darkness myself, when suddenly, my mind felt something, and it reached out, high high into the sky, finding a presence that hadn't been there before.

_Hello,_ it whispered, and I fled from it. It wasn't large, vast, but it was something impossible.

Shadow Stalker had been the seas and the skies, filled with freedom and wildness.

Lung had been concrete and ashes, tied to cities and flames.

The presence was magnificent, and it was like a knight had descended into our world. A magnificent shining knight of steel and silver, riding to the rescue of those in need.

I turned to run. Now I knew who Circus and Shadow Stalker were talking about, and my heart sank as I realized there was no way I could be fast enough.

Who would be the first one to show up from the Protectorate? Who were those four, who had taken down **Lung** with just a bit of help from me, so afraid of?

The answer was simple, laughably simple, and I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before.

There was only one person who would be the first to go to such a fight in Brockton Bay, because that was what he did. He protected people. He would go anywhere, do anything, if it meant that someone would be saved because of his actions. He was unstoppable. He had been the Bay's beacon of hope after dark times.

"Hello there." his voice said, and it rumbled like a sleeping lion waiting to be woken, power that was unmatched hiding in the depths of it.

I slowly, ever so slowly, turned around, not wanting to see that my worst fears had been confirmed.

A well built man, about six feet tall, wearing a blue bodysuit was hovering about five feet above me. With red shoulder pads and a chin clean of whiskers, he looked fairly dashing. His mask was a blue white mixture, and he was one of the few capes in the world who could pull off a literal _cape_ – black with a white inline fluttered gently in the breeze, and he gave me a warm smile as I felt uncomfortable in what little clothes I had left; the explosion on the roof with Vix had ripped up parts of my clothes, but the fire had burned most of my shirt and part of my jeans, and in front of him I felt rather... lacking.

The man who brought Endbringers to a standstill. The man who had single-handedly turned around the Bay. One of humanity's greatest heroes, though I was sure he would never say so himself.. This was the _reason_ the Protectorate existed, the ideal to strive towards.

Here, floating in front of me, was _Legend._

"I've been looking for you."

* * *

**Gestation 2.10**

I stared at him in shock and awe, my mouth dropping wide open. There was no way. Wariness filled my body, and I felt my heart sink; he knew.

"...N-no, I think you must be mistaken," I said, almost flinching as my voice stammered over the words. He gently floated to the ground, touching it almost lightly. He looked down at Lung's crumpled form, and frowned.

"A pity, isn't it?" he said, his voice quiet but filled with some emotion I couldn't identify, and I didn't want to touch Legend with my mind again. Not only would he be less than happy about it - but I didn't know if I could stand that brightness. He glanced back to me as he continued: "Even someone with such strength could have such weakness inside him."

"Are... are you talking about _Lung_? But he's a monster!" The words fell from my mouth too fast for me to stop them, and even as I clamped a hand over my mouth, horrified and embarrassed, Legend looked at me with the saddest eyes I'd ever seen.

"Frankenstein – no, _Taylor Hebert_. We all have the potential in us to be great. Heroism is not in who you are -" A brief smile flashed across his face, but was gone just as quickly. "- or how you feel, but it shines through in your actions. Those are what define us; the ways we react to the events that take place around us." He glanced down at Lung, a sad smile coming over his face as he looked at the ten foot monster. "Lung could have been one of the most magnificent heroes of our time, a man who turns into a dragon to protect those he cares for. A _hero._"

I had no response for Legend. Maybe it was because I didn't know how to react to the situation; Legend complimenting Lung was something I'd never considered before. Maybe - He looked at me, and my mind reached out on its own, grasping at his before I pulled it back hastily. I was unsure of how Legend had known I was reading him before, and I could still pretend that I wasn't who he thought I was. _Maybe._

"I wish more young people could be like you."

My knees felt suddenly awfully weak, hearing _the_ Legend compliment me, and I couldn't stop a smile from appearing, no matter how hard I tried.

"You stayed out of cape fights for years - yet tonight, when the city needed you most, you came through. Thank you for that." his quiet voice was filled with clear sincerity, and I could see right there why he was the icon, the reason people became capes - I didn't even need my power to see that.

Most capes in Brockton Bay were like kids playing at superheroes, compared to him. Compared to the Triumvirate. If all of them were like Legend, with that much power, and they used it like he did, how could we possibly lose against anything? I'd heard people complain about Legend - but actually meeting him, there was something undeniably unique there, and it empowered me to be _better_ then I was. To be the best I could be.

"I… I just wanted to help. To help protect something."

"I thought as much." He smiled broadly at me, his body standing high above me, and nodded. "I'm glad."

I shifted nervously, staring at my feet. What did he want with me? Why would he bother staying to talk to me, besides waiting for the PRT to arrive to take Lung in? I didn't have anything to say, and I certainly wasn't going to bring up my powers if he wasn't.

"You look cold," he said, and suddenly I felt something warm drape over my shoulders, and something white fell down to my feet. I looked up, and Legend seemed a bit smaller, his cape gone from his shoulders. Black fell from shoulders now, all the way down my legs, and I stammered and stuttered, unable to make my mouth work properly.

"I-I-I can't take this! This is… this is _your_ cape!"

"It's quite alright," he replied, winking at me. "I have more."

I tried to say something, but paused. It was warm, and my body was freezing, the clothes I was wearing burned. I wrapped the cape around myself, and looked at Legend again, my eyes questioning. He didn't say anything, almost as if he was at war with himself.

"I… I am sorry." his voice was so layered in emotion that I had trouble understanding him. A moment of intense grief flashed across his face, but there was something else there, too. I refused to reach out, refused to loosen my power. He had done nothing wrong to me, and I refused to violate his privacy like that. Or break my promise.

"For what?" I asked, at last.

He looked at me with those intense eyes, and I could feel the weight of the world in his gaze. He clapped a single hand on my shoulder, his troubled visage staring down on me, and he said one word: "Everything."

I didn't understand what Legend was apologizing for, but I hesitantly nodded, grasping the warm cape a little tighter. He sagged with relief, releasing my shoulder as he stood back, his body almost pulsating with newfound energy. Whatever had been weighing on him was gone.

"You could be a hero, yourself, you know." he said, the underlying power evident in his deep voice. "A proper one."

"Me? I don't have any decent abilities. I'm just a bit faster, a bit stronger. And… I… no, it's nothing." I was lying by omission - lying to Legend, right after he had apologized to me for something I couldn't possibly comprehend. I couldn't tell the truth, even though _I_ knew that he already knew about my power.

"You're much stronger than you think you are. Trust me."

I didn't feel strong - I felt weak. I had forced my way into Lung's mind, even if it was during a fight, and ripped away something that was a part of him, for no other reason than that I had wanted to _win_. Even if my intent was to protect people, I forced Lung to the ground with a ferocity that could only stem from anger. It hadn't been fair either; his roars of rage and cries of pain were because of me, and he had been incapable of stopping it. My power wasn't the sort of ability that you could block, it seemed.

"I… I don't think so. I'm weak," I said. " I couldn't stop myself this time, and I…" I cut myself off, looking at Legend with worry clear in my eyes. His calm demeanor was almost worrying, in a way. He carried himself with such pride and he had so much power, but he didn't use it lightly. I'd only heard whispers of Legend being angered once or twice, but both of those events sounded terrifying on a scale I couldn't even begin to grasp. If even Legend could lose control of himself, then how could I expect to keep my power in check?

"Sometimes, it is impossible to stop ourselves," Legend whispered, and I looked up at him, startled. His eyes were gazing at me, but at the same time they looked impossibly far away, staring at something I couldn't see. "There are some events that we cannot prevent, even if we try. But we are all stronger than we think."

He held out his hand to me, and I stared at the white glove for a moment. It was as pure as newly fallen snow, and I hesitated to dirty it, but I didn't want to keep Legend waiting. I placed my hand in his, idly noting how small my scarred palm was compared to his, before he grasped it tight, and slowly we began to float off the ground. I watched, fascinated, as the earth slowly shrank as we rose, watching the trucks arrive to carry Lung away as Legend flew higher and higher, landing gently on the balcony of a skyscraper.

I looked out over Brockton Bay, and saw something beautiful. The sun was slowly falling, dyeing the sky red, orange and violet, its dying rays slipping on the water, trying to grab ahold of it before it went to rest for the night. Crystal blue water sparkled in the light, and I watched as lights slowly flickered on, all over the Bay, covering it in thousands of twinkling lights.

"You see it, don't you? The city is like a diamond at night, with all those lights. The sun is a painting splattering across the sky. If only everyone could see this, like you and I do now. The beauty of this world is too much for it to be destroyed by a foul thing like evil." Legend's voice was barely a whisper, but it held such confidence that I could hear him like he was yelling into my ear. I felt I understood him, just a little bit.

The center of Legend's mind, which I had glimpsed for so short a time, had been a shining knight. He was probably the most noble man I'd ever met, selfless in a way that I could not even begin to understand. A proper hero, as he said - though I doubted he'd ever claim as much.

"What… what exactly are you trying to say?" I asked quietly, not wanting to break the beauty of the image before us.

"I am being selfish," he replied, a deep sigh passing by his lips afterwards. I tore my gaze away from the view, looking at him. "I am asking you to help."

I stared at him in shock. "How… how can I help? I'm just well… _me_."

He gave me a look, and I barely stopped my mind from diving back into his, to see what he knew, to see _how_ he knew what I could do. "You know that you could be a hero."

I laughed at that, turning back to watch the sky's slow turn to black. "What, do you want me to put on a mask? Pretend I'm not the freakish Frankenstein?"

I could hear him sigh softly, and he walked up on my right side, staring at the sky. "You can't wear a mask, Taylor. An eyepiece, maybe, but never a mask. What you can do… people need to see your face. They need to have something to connect to, so they can see that there is goodness and kindness there. Because when they learn of your powers, they'll be terrified."

I bit my lip, turning to look at Legend again. "I… I don't know if I can do what you want me to. If _I_ want to."

"Being a hero isn't about 'want', Taylor. Anyone can claim to be the good guy." He looked at me, and his eyes were like two pieces of steel behind his mask, filled with such intensity and determination that I had to force myself not to take a step back. "You show your mettle through your **actions**. An old friend of mine told me that, and he would know." A small chuckle escaped past his lips.

I stared at Legend, and he stared back at me with that gentle understanding that I still couldn't quite grasp. The wind had picked up, and I felt the cape he had given me gently float in the wind, scratching past my ankles as it flicked and twirled at the edges. My glowing brown eyes met his cold blue, and I felt incredibly, impossibly small.

My mind could reach out and touch people all around me, but I would still feel so absolutely insignificant next to Legend. His values were things that I couldn't possibly fathom, but I so desperately wanted to. I wanted to know what it meant to be a hero, to someone who very much embodied the concept. I needed to know, because something that meant so much to him, had to mean something to me.

I had already made my choice, I knew. I opened my mouth slowly, the words quietly slipping past my lips. "I will."

He smiled at me, a soft, quiet smile, and turned back to face the dying sun. "Of course."

We stood together in silence as the last rays gently vanished over the horizon.

* * *

**Interlude 2.1**

"Moooom, when can I go see Taylor? It's been like for_ever_!" A short, red haired girl glared at a much older woman, who had the same color hair, tied back as she sat down next to the girl.

"Emma, Taylor's been going through some... rough patches, right now. It's not easy for her to go and see you again, okay? She's very sad." The woman replied, with a smile. "So... you need to make her happy if she wants to see you, okay?"

Emma stared curiously at her mother, tilting her head. Taylor was sad, and that meant they couldn't be friends anymore? But they were best friends. The bestest. Forever. So there was no way Taylor _didn't_ want to see her. She nodded happily. "Okay mom, I promise!"

Emma turned on her heel, heading for the door. The older woman stood up, looking after her worriedly. "Emma? Where are you going?"

The smaller girl just laughed, doing a spin as she opened the door. "To see Taylor! I'm sure she'll be ready now that I know how to make her super duper happy!"

The door shut with a click, and Emma skipped across the concrete sidewalk, carefully avoiding puddles. If she touched them, she would fall into the portal, and that would be the _absolute worst thing ever._ Her feet were dancing around the dangerous portals, making sure that she would survive long enough to get to Taylor's house, and save her from the Sadness! The Sadness was the worst villain, capable of only the most dangerous and serious of crimes; _keeping best friends apart_.

Fighting valiantly against the portals, Emma gasped in horror as she almost, oh so slowly, tripped, her mouth open to scream as the portal grew closer and closer, about to envelop her whole -

"E-e-emma? Wh-wh-what are you doing?" A quiet voice said, and the redhead looked up with a big, bright smile.

"Taylor! How are yooooou-" Her voice faltered as she looked at her bestest friend forever, and a frown slowly appeared.

The other girl's brown hair had been chopped down, hanging slightly below her jaw, instead of that super amazing long hair that Emma' s mom never let her try to grow, no matter how much she begged and pleaded. Her skin was almost ghost white, and thin scratches covered her entire body, even if they were _paler_ scratches. Scratches were the worst, they hurt for hours after the fact even if you put an Alexandria band-aid on them.

"-doing?" She finished, barely missing a beat. Taylor looked down, staring at her feet.

"I-I just saw th-that you were coming and I... I wanted to... to..."

"Come and play? Of course! Let's go to the park, ooooh or to the bay! I'll ask my mom if she can drive us down, and we'll go swimming and play in the sand, and it'll be really, really fu-"

"E-e-emma?" The other girl asked, and the redhead stopped speaking, looking at her. Taylor had meekly looked up, and her eyes glowed at Emma, who grinned happily.

"Yeah, what's up? Are you ready for the bestest day ever, bestest friend ever?"

"C-can we just stay at y-your house today? M-maybe play some games there?"

Emma looked at her friend, and nodded happily, flinging an arm around her as they walked back to her house. "Of course, Taylor! We can watch movies and play games and talk about how _gross_ Daniel Jones is-"

Taylor let out a small giggle, and Emma grinned even wider. "I-I thought you said that Dan was the man?"

Emma shook her head frowning and waggling a finger at the slightly shorter girl. "No way! Dan will never be the man _ever again_. While you were gone he called me up and said he ate his boogers! Ewwwwwww, right?"

"Y-yeah." Taylor, responded, quiet. Emma sighed, and the two girls walked into the house.

"Moooooooom, Taylor's here! Can you bring some food to my room?" She called, before rushing up the stairs, the thumping of her feet on the hardwood floor momentarily pausing as she turned around, motioning to the brunette who had stayed on the lowest step, hesitating.

"Come on! Let's go! I have some super fun stuff planned! I've been planning it for weeks, ever since you went on vacation!"

Taylor flinched, turning away, and Emma frowned. Truly, the Sadness was a formidable enemy, capable of infiltrating even into her secret hideout! What would the Sadness do next, on its vaingloriwhatever quest for revenge against the two best of friends?!

"Oh man, I can't wait to tell you about what I did! It was super fun, but it would have been waaaaay better if you were there!"

Taylor froze, looking up with hopeful eyes. Emma grinned victoriously, watching as the Sadness cowered away from her best friend, unable to stand the power of friendship!

She never knew that books and stuff could be so useful in real life.

"R-r-really?"

"Ofcourse! Why would I have _more_ fun without my best friend? Geeez, Taylor, that is something that is totally impossible! Forever. Period."

Taylor walked up the steps nervously, her feet slowly hitting them, and she hesitated slightly again, before continuing on.

Emma grabbed her hand, rushing across the floor. She rolled her eyes, hearing her mom call up, her usual words passing in one ear and out the other as she took her best friend to her room.

Don't run? Ha. Hahahaha. The great heroine, Emma Barnes, laughed at that, because it was so incredibly silly. How could a person _not_ run across the floor? It was impossible to comprehend, because everyone Emma knew totally ran across the floor in their home, because it was the best thing ever, next to setting up mattresses on the staircase and sliding down them on sheets.

Emma grinned at Taylor as they entered her room, bouncing up and down as her best friend was finally home and hanging out with her again. "Soooo, do you wanna slide down the stairs? It's gonna be super fun!"

"W-wouldn't your mom get mad?" She asked quietly, looking worried. "I-I don't think my mom would like it if I did that..."

"Why would she get mad, Taylor? We have a ton of mattresses just _lying around doing nothing._ We're just putting them to good use! A good cause, Taylor! Mattress sliding. They will be used in only the greatest act of all time!"

She had already begun stripping the bed of its sheets before Taylor said anything more.

"E-emma? ...Th-thanks."

Emma smiled widely, ripping the mattress free of the bed. "Of course! Come on, go put this on the steps before mom notices!"

* * *

**Interlude 2.2**

A little girl skipped across the floor, listening to the tap-ataptap of her shoes on metal. She hummed a tune as she moved, the cold floor making her feet feel like she was sliding along.

"Red as blood and clear as ice, I'm gonna make something nice~"

A moan bubbled somewhere beyond her, and she frowned. Her works were forbidden from making noise when she was nearby, and the fact that one dared to do so was, to be frank, troublesome. It meant that they were ignoring her commands, and if they ignored her, she would have to make an example of one of them. Anyone would do, because letting them think she _knew_ who it was meant that they would feel relaxed.

Test subjects were forbidden from being relaxed.

"Who did it? Fess up now, or you juuuuussssst might diiiiieeeee~" she said, her voice lilting like a singer as she spoke, her feet slowly approaching a cage. The man inside flinched away, and she frowned. "Hey, hey, you can't do that! Ugggggh, it makes me look _bad_ when my art hates me!"

Opening the door, she walked in, giving him a stern look. "Now, I don't _waaaaant_ to dissect you, buuuuuut... if you do anything wrong... well, then, who knows? Maybe I'll do more of_thiiiiis~_"

Quicker then the man could see, his hand was gone, flopping onto the floor as blood rushed out of his wrist, and he stared at the spot where he used to have a hand, blinking. It was like his hand had never even been there, the cut was far too clean and precise; it was less of "I have lost my hand" and more of "did I ever have a hand in the first place?"

That was the 'power' of Bonesaw, one of the few biological tinkers, who whistled happily as she exited the cage, hearing a bloodcurdling scream behind her as her small face curved into a smile. A perfect cut. Later, she'd have to fit him for a claw, or maybe extend the nails on his hand so they stabbed into the wrist! Just to make sure he never broke her rules again.

The small blonde girl laughed as she left the room, a childish laugh, more fit for a little girl then someone who had so easily lopped off a hand because the owner had annoyed her. The door closed behind with a clanking sound, locking itself as she left.

It simply wouldn't _do_ if her pieces got away, would it? They weren't perfect yet. They would never be perfect. If only she hadn't left her project behind... she'd have to go retrieve it someday.

"Jaaaaack I'm dooooone!" She said in a singsong voice as she skipped into the room, removing her oversized, bloody lab coat and hanging it on a hook. She pouted at a man sitting in an armchair, who looked at her bemused as she fluttered her eyelashes. "Didja miss meeee~"

"I always miss you, Bonesaw. It makes my day brighter when you're here, you know that," he responded with a chuckle. With short black hair and a goatee, the man looked handsome, and his clothes would have been rather dashing, had they not had a slightly red tinge. A black vest underneath a fairly nice jacket, rolled up past his white collared shirt, which rested at his forearms. He held a razor in his left hand, idly flicking it open and shut as he looked at the girl.

"Oh Jack," she said, skipping over lightly as she sat down by the fireplace, pulling off her shoes to feel the crackle of cold slipping away from her feet, "You always know the right thing to say!"

The duo sat in silence for a moment; an odd pair. One small and humming happily, the other idly flicking open a blade and watching specks of blood hit the chair he sat in.

"...Bonesaw." he said, finally, his voice almost serenely calm, "Your first subject-"

"Masterpiece, Jack. Best work, can't wait to find it again~" she interjected, enjoying the feel of the icy chill slowly being burned from her feet, imagining the steam rising from them with a hiss.

"Your masterpiece," Jack swiftly changed his words, like a fish flicking from one way to the next, "You said it triggered, correct?"

"Yepyep! Telepath. Sent out that scream you heard! Funny though, it never screamed before that! That was its only break, and I'd promised it that I'd let it go, with a few adjustments, if it triggered. Never doing that again, losing my best work because of a silly little promise was _awful_!"

"Telepath? Really?" The man mused, pausing his movement of the blade with a _shink_, rotating it in his hand. "That sounds... interesting."

"Nope! No way!" The girl said with a laugh, and Jack looked at her raising an eyebrow.

"Oh? What is it?"

"You Jack, can't have her! She's _mine mine mine_, mine to work with, mine to break, and mine to use! You always break my toys when I loan them to you, and this one is the _best one eeeeeverrrrr_! I'm not going to risk you breaking it by mistake, sorrry~" She clicked her heels together with a hum, and Jack watched.

"Really now? I've never seen you so attached to one of your... works," the man said, watching as the pale girl giggled, moving her toes closer and closer to the fire before pulling them out once she felt the lick of the flames. "It's interesting, to say the least."

"Hmmm, yeah I guess~ I've never made such a great piece after it though! Brute four, Mover two, all on a Thinker! Do you know how _haaaaard_ it was to get all those new and different bits working together? Took aaaaages! Had to replace all of the skin, most of the organs, even give away a few of my own just to make sure everything was in tip top shape!" she laughed, tilting her head back and winking as blonde strands of hair fell away from her eyes. "Don't worry though, I swung by the town after and fixed myself back up reeeeeaaal quick! Didn't want to deal without my precious backups, you know~"

He nodded, and the two sat in the calming silence of the crackling fire. Words were unnecessary for events like this to the both of them, and Jack stretched out his legs, flicking his razor once more before asking a question. "Are you sure you don't want to go and get it? After all, it is your best work."

"Not with _him_ there," she said with a frown, glaring at the flames. "He's too difficult to work around, you knoooow? Have to make sure everything's in perfect shape, nobody nearby, and that starting a piece won't attract him!"

Jack chuckled, the razor remaining closed for the moment. "Maybe someday, we can pay them a visit. When he's not around, perhaps?"

Bonesaw hummed a tune, curling her toes in glee as the fire finally made itself known, the flames whistling pleasurably as they danced. "Maaaaaaybe. But remember Jack," she rolled over, kicking her feet up and looking at Jack sternly, waggling a finger as one hand propped up her head. "Don't touch my masterpiece! You can get your own, kaaaaay? I want to save mine for a special occasion~"

The tall man nodded, as he stood, the razor open once more. "Oh, but of course." He turned away from the girl, who immediately rushed to his armchair, and stood at the edge of the carpet, looking at a map above the fireplace.

It was a large map, showing every state in the country, and he licked a finger, holding it up to test the wind as Bonesaw giggled in the chair. Pulling an arm back, he threw the razor with pinpoint accuracy, nodding in satisfaction as it sliced through the map and into the stone fireplace. A perfect hit, but on a terrible location.

"Jaaack, I don't think anybody except maybe _Crawler_ wants to go to Thrillsville, it has nothing but dull sights and explosives~"

Jack nodded, going to retrieve his knife. "Naturally, I'll try again. Best out of three _is_ my rule, you know."

"Hahaha of course~"

He aimed once more, this time pocketing his razor in exchange for a knife with a better balance. While his razor was his favorite, it never really _cut_ into the wall as nicely as an old fashioned military knife. Pulling it out of the table, he aimed once more, closing one eye to get a better shot.

The fire crackled as the Nine picked their next target with a game of chance.

* * *

**My favorite part of writing this is how there are no stations of canon for me to follow.**


End file.
